


Daryl and Glenn's Grand Adventure

by MeganRosenberg



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Daryl Dixon & Glenn Rhee Friendship, Friendship, Gen, Hurt Glenn Rhee, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Medical Experimentation, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Protective Daryl Dixon, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-04
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 01:12:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 58,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11703699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeganRosenberg/pseuds/MeganRosenberg
Summary: After his brother is left behind on a rooftop in Atlanta, Daryl decides to leave the group and takes Glenn with him as a hostage. Their personalities clash at first, but eventually they must learn to put their differences aside when they meet a small group of survivors with sinister intentions.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally wrote this in 2012 and published it to fanfiction.net. This version has minor edits I'm making as I post it here - mostly fixing capitalization and punctuation in dialogue. It's 99% the same story it is on the other site. A couple words are changed here and there if I really can't stand how I worded something, but I'm trying not to alter it much from its original form. I was pretty proud of this story back in the day, and still kind of am.

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Chapter 1

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Sitting on a rock he had dragged away from the group's fire pit and up next the tent he and Merle used to share, Daryl glared over at Rick Grimes, the cop who had recently joined their group. Daryl couldn't help but to kind of hate the man. It wasn't until his arrival that Merle had been seen as a big enough threat to leave behind on a roof-top. Daryl's older brother had been getting into arguments and sometimes physical fights with some of the group's members ever since the two Dixon brothers had joined up with this group, but it had never cost him anything until Rick showed up.

But it wasn't all Rick's fault, of course. From what Daryl understood, it was the black guy who had been the real problem. He was the one put in charge of unlocking Merle when the time came, and he was the one who 'accidentally' dropped the key at the last minute so that it couldn't be reached, and so that Merle was trapped up there. Daryl wasn't stupid. He knew Merle didn't like that guy. And he knew his older brother wasn't afraid to say so. He and Merle had probably gotten into some sort of argument where Merle had called the black guy some racial slur. And then after that everyone else had probably ganged up on Merle and had left that black motherfucker in charge of him. T-Dog, as the idiot called himself, had left Merle up there on purpose. Daryl knew it.

As Daryl continued glaring around their campsite, from one person to the next, he picked at his fingernails with his knife, cleaning out some of the dirt that had accumulated under them over the past days and weeks. Ordinarily he'd have just left all the dirt and grime there. He didn't much mind it, and he knew more dirt would replace it pretty soon. But he wanted to have something to keep his hands occupied, to prevent himself from using them to strangle any of these bastards. He noticed having the knife on hand, readily visible to any and all observers also helped keep people from trying to talk to him. At first they had all been apologetic, and some of them had tried to smooth things over with him, but he wasn't having any of it. You don't just leave a guy's brother for dead and then expect a simple 'sorry' to make things all better.

No one dared make eye contact with him now. Sure, every once in a while someone glanced over briefly, but as soon as they saw Daryl looking back at them, they'd avert their stares and get themselves as far away from him as possible. And he didn't even feel guilty that they were all terrified of him. They had a damn good reason to be. Daryl was in a very bad mood. If he ended up killing someone before the end of the day, he might not even be surprised.

Every single one of them was worthless. There were a lot of people on that scouting trip. Glenn, T-Dog, Andrea, Jacqui Morales... And not a one of them did a damn thing for Merle. Probably didn't help that they were a bunch of minorities and women - people Merle had a habit of pissing off. Even if they didn't much care for the older Dixon, they could have at least refrained from leaving him behind... And it wasn't even like they just left him to make it back on his own... he was locked up. He didn't even stand a chance. Fending off zombies wasn't the easiest task in the world, and having your arm cuffed to a roof didn't make it any simpler.

Daryl was truly nearing a breaking point. He was beyond done with these people. When he and Merle had found them, the brothers were reluctant to join the mismatched group of failures, but thought 'what the hell?' Having a scouting boy who would bring back food for when hunting wasn't good and having a former cop with a gun, an old man who seemed to enjoy keeping watch... It didn't really seem like that bad of a deal. These people all seemed to want to help each other out. And at least there were some kids, fat people, and elderly who would be the first to die if things got bad... All those worthless people could slow down the zombies if they came, so the more fit people, like Daryl and Merle, could get out of there while the walking corpses were occupied eating the weaklings.

Having some sacrifices for when things got bad was a pretty good idea, Daryl thought. But he hadn't counted on them turning on him and his brother. Now that it had happened, he felt like such an idiot. There was a reason he never trusted people, and it was exactly this. Everywhere they went, people always ended up screwing him and Merle over. They should have seen that these people were no different.

Merle and Daryl should have never joined this group of misfits. They'd both known it wouldn't work out. They should have left together while they still had the chance, robbed these idiots blind and gotten as far away from them as possible. He couldn't leave with Merle now, but he could still leave by himself.

He glanced around the camp. He'd need to take some supplies with him. Daryl wondered if anyone would put up a fight if he decided to just take some things and leave. Some of the stuff was rightfully his, or Merle's, so no one could complain if he took it. But some of it belonged to the group. He'd supplied these fuckers with fresh meat all this time. The least they could do was give up some jugs of water and a tent to him.

But somehow he doubted it would be that easy. These assholes all thought this was a group effort. If they were going to give stuff up to someone, it sure as hell wouldn't be to someone they were all against. They weren't going to let him take anything. And if he took stuff and snuck off, he was sure they'd probably all come after him. He wondered if they'd kill him to get their supplies back. He bet they would... They weren't all as kind and caring as they thought they were. They'd left Merle to be eaten alive, after all, and that was pretty fucking cold-hearted.

If he was going to pull this off, he'd need a hostage.

If Daryl had someone who he could threaten to kill, the others would give up any supplies he needed, and wouldn't come after him. Of course, he wouldn't be surprised if they ended up coming after him anyway, but if he threatened to kill his hostage in that event, they might at least stay back for a while. But he'd have to pick someone good. Someone who they all liked, but not someone who would be too strong and might end up escaping.

He didn't want to take any of the kids. That would just be annoying to him, and he didn't want to deal with any parents making rash choices in defense of their children. He also didn't want to take anyone with him who would end up being a liability. He wanted his hostage to be self-sufficient. And he wasn't sure if he'd want to take any of the women either... If he took Lori, Rick or Shane would probably shoot him in the head right there - no questions asked. She was also kind of a bitch and he didn't want to have to listen to her complain. Andrea might be too much to handle... And Carol just annoyed the hell out of him. He supposed could take Amy... People liked her, and she didn't seem too physically strong... He'd keep her name in his head as an option.

Dale probably wouldn't be too much to handle... But if he and his hostage had to end up running for their lives, Dale might not make it. Daryl didn't want to take anyone who might die on him... Glenn was fit enough to keep himself alive, but not nearly as physically built as Daryl. And people liked him. He'd probably make a good hostage. Daryl ran some more names through his head. Shane and Rick were out of the question. So was T-Dog. He could make no promises not to kill that man. He needed a hostage who he could be sure not to murder...

So he had to decide between Glenn and Amy... He figured they'd both be pretty easy to handle. Neither of them seemed like the type who would fight with him too much. People around camp liked them both, so they wouldn't want to risk Daryl killing one of them - that made for good hostages... If no one cares if your hostage lives or dies, you're not going to accomplish much.

But he couldn't take someone who anyone cared about too much... He didn't want anyone coming after him for revenge... If he took Amy, Andrea would never forget it. She'd probably come after him with a vengeance, and wouldn't hesitate to kill him to get her sister back. Of course, he wasn't afraid of a woman, but even a woman could be deadly with a gun in her hand and vengeance in her heart. And Daryl respected bonds between siblings. He didn't want to split up the two sisters... Even if Andrea had been there when Merle was left behind...

So it seemed Glenn was his best option. People cared about him enough to give in to Daryl's requests, but they wouldn't risk too much to come after him... He was no one's brother, husband, or son. No one person in particular would feel an overwhelming urge to get him back at absolutely any cost, so he shouldn't have to worry about anyone doing anything crazy. As long as Daryl ensured he'd keep the kid alive and well as long as no one followed him, they'd have no reason come after him.

And what luck... Glenn was walking toward Daryl right now... Not really right at him, but near enough... The poor kid didn't have any idea at all what an unfortunate choice he'd made in walking near Daryl... All the others knew better than to come within fifteen feet of the man.

In one swift and graceful motion Daryl jumped up and grabbed the kid as quickly as he could, resulting in a startled gasp escaping from Glenn's mouth. For a moment, Glenn struggled to get away, but he must have seen Daryl's knife pretty quick, because it wasn't long at all before the boy forced himself to stand completely still.

"Shhh," Daryl hissed as he pulled the kid up against his chest so that Glenn was facing away from him. He crossed his left arm over the boy's body and grabbed onto Glenn's right arm with a steel grip. With his other hand, Daryl raised his knife up and pressed it lightly against Glenn's throat. He didn't want to actually cut into the boy's skin, but he wanted Glenn, and everyone else, to know Daryl was serious.

He had done all of this within the span of a few seconds, but everyone's attention was on them already.

"Daryl-" He heard Glenn's small, pleading voice. "I'm sorry for what happened to Merle," he squeaked. Daryl could feel the boy's fingers grasping at his arm, trying to get a grip on his captor, for some reason or another. Maybe having something to hold on to made him feel more secure. "We all are... None of us meant for it to happen that way..." Glenn's voice was shaking. He was clearly terrified. "If I could go back and do it all over again-"

"Shut up," Daryl hissed as he shook the kid somewhat harshly. He wasn't in the mood to discuss this. He was getting out of here, whether these guys claimed they were sorry or not. What was done could not be undone. Words didn't matter much at this point.

He heard Glenn whimper in front of him, but Daryl did not relax his grip on the boy's arm or ease up with the knife. He wondered if the kid thought Daryl was going to kill him to avenge Merle. Little did Glenn know, if Daryl was going to kill anyone, it sure as hell wouldn't have been Glenn. The Asian boy wasn't at fault for Merle being left behind. Not really... But he was a much better candidate to be Daryl's hostage than T-Dog was. Daryl didn't actually want to kill anyone... He just wanted to get his point across so he could get the fuck away from these idiots once and for all.

Rick was already inching slowly toward them. The former cop's hands were raised defensively as though he was stepping into a cage with a wild animal. "Whatever you're thinking of doing, Daryl, don't do it..." he said in what seemed like the calmest voice he could muster. The cop probably had similar conversations countless times in his career. But Daryl wasn't just some criminal who could be talked down by a sympathetic-sounding cop.

"You all are gonna listen to me now." Daryl glared at Rick as he spoke. "I've had enough of you people. I'm gettin' outta here. I won't kill this kid, as long as you do what I say. Understand? I need everyone except Carol, Amy, and Lori to stand over by the RV, facing away from me, hands up on the RV where I can see them."

He watched and waited as everyone complied.

"Shane, Rick, Andrea... Any of you got guns, you can slowly take them out of their holsters and throw 'em aside right now," Daryl added. "An' remember, I'm watching each an' every one of you. Anyone tries anything, and poor Jackie Chan here's gettin' his throat cut." He pulled Glenn even closer for effect.

Daryl could feel Glenn's body shaking slightly and heard a small whimper from the kid as Daryl completed his latest threat. He could feel on his arm that was stretched across the boy's chest that Glenn's breathing had increased from a normal rate into a speed that would imply panic. He hoped the guy didn't piss himself...

"Girls," Daryl instructed, glancing over to Amy, Carol, and Lori. "Yer gonna load up my truck. I need my tent, two jugs of water, a gas can, Short Round's baseball bat and clothes and shit-"

"Wait!" Rick called out, turning halfway around from his place on the RV. "You're not taking him with you!" Daryl wasn't sure if it was an order or a question.

"As long as no one comes after me, I'll keep him alive. When I'm confident no one's come after us, I'll set him up with a car er somethin' and send him back," Daryl informed Rick. "I really don't want to have to kill this guy... And I certainly don't want to have to travel with him forever. But if you all don't fuck off and leave me the hell alone, things are gonna get bloody. Everyone follows my orders, and yer little friend will be returned to you safe an' sound. Can we all agree?"

Rick shook his head slightly. "We won't come after you. I can give you my word. You don't have to take Glenn with you. You can take any supplies you want, and none of us will do a thing, right guys?" He looked around at the others.

"That's right," Andrea agreed as she nodded her head.

"We've got plenty of supplies," Dale added. "You can take whatever you need. There's no need to threaten anybody... And we won't follow you. Just let Glenn go, take whatever supplies, and we'll all forget we ever met..."

Daryl shook his head. "I'm not budging. I got a plan, and I just need to know if y'all can go along with it. Either Glenn and I go off on our own way, an' you don't follow and I send him back later, or we go off, you follow us, Glenn dies, I probably die, couple of you might die... Once we're out of here, it's gonna be up to you."

Rick sighed loudly. "If we promise not to follow you, you've got to promise us you won't hurt him... And that when you send him back, you'll make sure he's got a reliable car. If he gets killed, even after you let him go, his blood will be on your hands." Rick looked and sounded very serious. "Glenn never did anything to you... If you take him away from here, you have an obligation to make sure he stays safe. If you insist that you've gotta take him with you, we can't stop you. But I'm holding you completely responsible if anything happens to him. As long as he comes back safe, with no injuries, you and I will be fine... But if he gets hurt, or dies, we'll have no reason not to come after you."

Daryl just stared at the former cop for a moment. Rick certainly knew how to give a good speech. Too bad Daryl wasn't buying it. Glenn really hadn't ever done anything to Daryl. Nothing more than cause minor annoyances... But how the fuck would Rick claim to know that? He'd only just gotten here. "As long as I don't see any of you in my rear-view mirror, you won't have nothin' to worry about," Daryl assured him. "I just wanna fucking get the hell out of here, and I want assurance that no one's gonna fuck with me. Last time I gave you people even an ounce of my trust, you ended up leaving my brother locked on a roof-top in a zombie-infested city. So excuse me for bein' a little fuckin' paranoid."

"Anything else, Daryl?" Amy asked. He looked over at her. She looked pissed, and her voice didn't sound much more cheerful than her face looked. It was actually strange to see the girl so angry. Amy was normally carefree and happy, just like Glenn.

"Put a couple boxes of matches, a lighter, and some canned food in Glenn's backpack and throw that in the back too," Daryl instructed. "Enough food for both of us to last four days, just in case. But I'll prolly send him back before then. An' don't be stingy... Remember your buddy's gonna be here with me."

He knew he could easily go hunting for food, but didn't know if he'd be able to leave Glenn behind anywhere while he did so. He also wasn't so sure about bringing the kid with him on a hunting trip.

The women did as Daryl asked. When they had packed up everything Daryl had ordered them to, the three of them stood near the truck. Lori and Amy glared at him with hatred in their eyes, while Carol just looked down at the ground as if making eye contact with Daryl was the most frightening experience she could imagine. What they didn't realize was that Daryl didn't give a shit how much they hated him. He wasn't here to make friends, and certainly not with them.

He tried to think of anything he had forgotten. He had his crossbow and arrows on his back... And that was really all he actually needed. Everything else was just a luxury. "Alright. You three join the others against the RV," Daryl instructed.

As the three women made their way over to the RV, Daryl inched toward his truck. As he moved, he kept his grip on Glenn firm and kept his knife close to the boy's neck. He really had no desire to kill this kid. Sure, Glenn had been there when Merle was left on the roof, but Daryl doubted the Asian had balls enough to ever actually do anything so mean. He probably had no say in the matter whatsoever. He was too nice.

But Daryl had to keep everyone on their toes. They needed to think he would kill Glenn with no remorse if they didn't do what he said. It seemed to be working; no one dared make a move as Daryl dragged Glenn toward the truck.

"Open the door," he instructed as he pulled Glenn up against the passenger side of the truck, but before they got in, Daryl looked back toward the others, "Remember," he started. "Nobody better follow us... Got it?"

The group of people lined up against the RV glared at him. Some nodded. Others offered a simple 'yes,' or 'yeah.' Some didn't say or do anything, but he was confident that they were worried enough about what Daryl might do if they didn't listen to him. He was fairly certain none of them would come after them... And he supposed if they did, he'd just have to threaten Glenn again until they left...

"Get in," Daryl said to Glenn as he pushed him into the truck. He kept his knife in hand, seemingly ready to use it. "You're driving," he added, climbing into the truck after the boy.

"Okay..." Glenn breathed out with a shaking, gasp-like voice. He was clearly quite nervous. He reached toward the truck's ignition and turned the key with a trembling hand. The truck's engine started up, but before Glenn put the vehicle into drive, he glanced over at Daryl. "I'll make sure no one goes after you if you let me go," Glenn offered.

Daryl reached over and grabbed onto Glenn's arm. "No," he said simply. "And don't go tryin' anything. Once we're away from all these guys, far enough that you can't walk back, you'll be safer with me than on yer own. Escaping from me would be a death sentence. Drive."

Glenn sighed and closed his eyes, but after only a second opened them again and put the truck into gear. And just like that, the two of them were on their way to getting Daryl's life back on track. Maybe he wouldn't have Merle anymore, and maybe he'd have to babysit this Asian kid for a while, but at least when it was all said and done, he wouldn't ever have to see anyone in their group again. No more reminders that he wasn't as good as them. No more complaints about him refusing to socialize... He'd get back to his old way of life - staying the hell away from everybody else.

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	2. Chapter 2

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Chapter 2

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Both Glenn and Daryl were silent as they traveled down the highway. They'd been driving for about an hour now, and neither of them had spoken to the other since they'd left camp. Daryl was actually quite surprised that Glenn hadn't tried to plead for his release any more than he already had. He was also surprised the kid hadn't made any attempt to open the truck's door and jump out. Maybe he was too smart... That kind of move would be ignorant, and Glenn probably knew it. If falling out of the truck wouldn't have killed him, Daryl proceeding to run over him would have. And even if Daryl just let him jump and didn't turn the truck around and go back for him, the boy's life would be claimed by walkers. Glenn must have known this just as well as Daryl did.

As Glenn gripped the steering wheel tightly, as though his hold on it was the only thing keeping him alive, Daryl kept his knife readily visible in his hands. He had no plan to use it. It was mostly just to scare Glenn into complying. Daryl wasn't a psychopath or anything. He didn't delight in killing people, or in hurting them. He just wanted to keep Glenn around for a while, as a means of insurance, just in case someone from camp showed up trying to get revenge on him for taking their supplies.

He never actually wanted to hurt the kid... Even from the start, that had not been his plan. But if he absolutely had to, he might do so. It wasn't as though he liked Glenn, or even knew anything about him. All he was to Daryl was a bargaining chip and a random person who Daryl sort of felt like he needed to make sure didn't die.

As Daryl gripped his knife and carved random patterns into the truck's dashboard, he noticed Glenn looking nervously in his direction. The boy was obviously on edge, and Daryl liked it that way. He didn't want Glenn getting too comfortable. Daryl was the one in charge here, and he needed to make sure to keep that clear.

"Where are you planning on going?" Glenn finally asked, briefly glancing in the other man's direction. His hands were still clutching the steering wheel in a death-grip, he was frowning, and his eyebrows were knitted together with worry. Daryl could tell the boy was nervous and that he was just trying to make conversation. He probably didn't really give a damn what Daryl's plans were. Daryl never understood it, but it seemed a lot of people talked when they were nervous or frightened. Somehow the sound of their own voice made them feel better, though he couldn't see how or why.

Daryl shrugged. "Don't know yet," he answered. "Just somewhere that I can be self sufficient and not have to worry about nobody fuckin' with me. Merle and I did fine without anyone else before all this zombie shit. And I'll be fine goin' back to livin' that way. I just wish Merle was still here."

"But without Merle it's gonna be just you... Do you really want to be all alone?" Glenn wondered, glancing over at him with worry still etched in his features.

"Keep your eyes on the road, Chinaman." Daryl glared at him. "I don't got no need for other people slowing me down and usin' up all my supplies. If I can't be with my brother, I don't wanna be with no one. I do better alone."

Glenn nodded. He didn't take his eyes off the road this time though. "I understand," he said. "It's kind of stressful having to take care of other people... That's why I prefer to go on supply runs by myself, so I don't have to worry about keeping an eye on anyone but myself. Being responsible for taking care of other people is an inconvenience... It's scary to know people are depending on you... But I think it's all worth it at the end of the day when you have someone to talk to... And someone to watch your back. It's a two way street."

"I don't need to talk to no one. I don't relate to any of them," Daryl informed him. "And I don't need no one watching my back. I ain't an idiot. I can take care of myself just fine."

The boy shrugged. "I bet you could relate to them somehow. You don't really know much about them. And they don't know much about you, because you won't talk to them. I bet if you talked a little bit about yourself, someone could relate to you and you'd bond with them. You can't expect to make friends if all you do is stare people down and make fun of them."

"Not interested." Daryl narrowed his eyes. He'd lived his whole life not giving a damn about anyone. He wasn't about to start bonding with these idiots now.

Daryl must have sounded annoyed, because the boy gave up on his line of questioning pretty quickly. "Okay... That's fine..." Glenn shrugged and finally shut his mouth. Then their comfortable silence was resumed.

They drove on for a while longer, neither of them speaking. Daryl was glad Glenn seemed to know when to shut up. He wondered if Amy would have been as good of a hostage as Glenn was being. Would she have been more scared? She was probably about as young as Glenn, so she certainly would have had the same fears as the boy did, but women always seemed more needy and more likely to freak out. Would she have cried? At least Glenn wasn't crying. He seemed scared, but not scared enough that he couldn't still function. Glenn had the perfect balance of wanting to please others and being able to take care of himself. He clearly didn't want to make Daryl angry, but he wasn't going to break down and curl up on the floor and cry either. He was going to do what he had to to get through this, and hopefully wouldn't feel the need to try anything stupid. Daryl had made an excellent hostage choice, or so it seemed thus far.

"We're running low on gas," Glenn said simply after a while.

"Turn off at the next exit," Daryl advised. "We'll see if there are any gas stations that are still functioning. And if that don't work, we'll look for abandoned cars."

Glenn shook his head. "I know some gas stations were out of gas even before the worst part of this whole walker thing... We probably aren't going to have much luck at a gas station. Especially not one right off the interstate like this. People probably milked them dry ages ago."

"Might as well try," Daryl persisted. "Don't know about you, but I'd rather just try to pump it out of the ground if we can... There's no harm in giving it a shot. But if you'd prefer to suck it through a hose..."

Daryl narrowed his eyes and watched Glenn carefully. The older man was fully aware of his poor word choice and wondered how Glenn would react to it. The boy glanced over for a second, but looked away when he noticed Daryl was looking at him. "We'll try it your way first," he agreed. He must not have liked the idea of siphoning fuel either.

The boy took the next exit as Daryl had advised, and drove a little while on to get a bit away from the main highway. They ended up in a somewhat small town, which looked rather abandoned. There were a few cars here and there, but for the most part, it looked like everyone had cleared out pretty fast as soon as the world started going to hell. But Daryl and Glenn both knew better than to feel completely safe here. There were gas stations, restaurants, hotels, convenience stores, houses... Walkers could be hiding anywhere. And survivors could be hiding anywhere. Daryl knew just as well as anyone that the living could potentially be worse than the undead.

"Pull into this one here," Daryl ordered, gesturing toward a fueling station. "Pull up close enough to the pump that you can reach through the window and check if it's dry."

Glenn nodded his head and pulled up inches away from the pump. He rolled down his window half-way and reached out and grabbed the nozzle, pulling the trigger lightly so that a small trickle of fluid splashed onto the pavement. "It's not dry!" He smiled over at Daryl. The kid's eyes had lit up. Daryl wasn't sure if he'd ever seen Glenn looking so happy. Of course, Daryl didn't usually pay much attention to the boy. He certainly did look cheerful though. He must have been entirely shocked the station had any fuel left. Glenn put the nozzle back and then drove the truck up further away from the pump so the fuel tank was parallel with it. He put the truck in park and then looked back at the older man.

Daryl reached over, turned off the truck, and pulled the key out of the ignition. "Don't run off," he advised Glenn, giving the boy a hard stare. "You know you're safer in here with me than out there."

Glenn frowned. "I know."

As Daryl moved to get out of the truck, he felt Glenn grab his arm. He didn't know what the little fucker was trying to do, but Daryl wasn't having any of it. He slapped the kid's hand away roughly and glared down at him.

"Wait..." Glenn said in a hushed tone. "I think I see movement inside." He pointed up at the little convenience store that was part of the gas station. "See?"

"Yeah." Daryl nodded. "We'll have to go fast."

"I don't think there's time... They'll be out here in seconds once you get out of the truck... They'll smell you. Why don't we just go somewhere else?" Glenn pleaded. He really was a lot more frightened of these corpses than Daryl was.

"You think whatever in there's one of a kind? These things are everywhere, remember? Besides, who said I was the one getting out?" Daryl smirked. He saw the color drain out of Glenn's face immediately. As much as he liked the idea of teasing his hostage, he knew he had no time for messing with the kid. "Trade me places," he changed the subject. "I'm getting out on that side, sticking the nozzle in the tank and setting it to fill it automatically. We'll leave it there; I'll get back in the truck, and we'll just drive off when it's full. That way if any walkers come while it's filling up, we'll be safe inside the truck, but we can still wait around for a little bit and get as much gas as we can."

Glenn shook his head, obviously thinking this wasn't a great idea, but Daryl didn't care. He was already climbing over Glenn, pushing the boy back toward the passenger side. "We gotta get this done quick," he added. "No time to discuss it."

He opened the truck's door and stepped out, scanning the area with his eyes as he did so. Now was no time to get sloppy and miss something. They weren't familiar with this area, so something could easily sneak up on them if they weren't careful.

He grabbed the nozzle Glenn had checked before and un-did the cap on the truck's fuel tank. He positioned the nozzle and began filling up the tank, locking the trigger in place and then hopping back in the truck, closing the door behind him as quietly as he could.

As the fuel poured into the gas tank with a soft swishing sound, Daryl narrowed his eyes up at the little store. Sure enough, a few of the walking corpses had caught onto his scent, or had heard the truck's door, or something... and were stumbling toward the front of the store.

"Roll up your window," Glenn urged in a panicked voice.

Daryl glanced over at him and rolled his eyes. "I ain't stupid," he growled as he reached over and started rolling the window up. He was going to roll it up, weather Glenn suggested it or not.

As the walkers stumbled nearer, Daryl glanced between them, the rear-view mirror, and Glenn. He wanted to watch for more unseen walkers approaching from behind, and also wanted to make sure Glenn didn't do anything stupid, like jump out of the truck and run, or attempt to wrestle the keys away from Daryl.

Glenn didn't seem to be thinking of trying to over-power or outsmart Daryl right now. Instead, he seemed to be focused entirely on keeping himself from pissing his pants or dying of a heart attack. He looked terrified and nothing short of completely panicked. He reached over and locked his door, as if it would matter...

"Is it almost full?" the boy's frantic voice called over to Daryl.

Daryl glanced over at the pump. "Says thirteen dollars worth. Gas was a hell of a lot more expensive than that. I'd say we're not even a third of the way full yet."

"Daryl, we should just go," Glenn gasped as one of the walkers reached the front of the truck.

"Nah," Daryl disagreed. "Look at it. It's stupid." It was leaned over the front of the truck. Its mouth was hanging open and bloody drool was sliding down it's chin. It just stared vacantly ahead, clawing at the hood of the truck as though that would allow it to make some sort of progress toward its desired meal.

For a moment, Daryl considered rolling down his window and shooting it with his crossbow. But he didn't know how many others were nearby and didn't want to have to trek too far away from the truck to retrieve his arrows. There were only two walkers he saw. That wasn't enough for him to bother wasting his arrows.

"Even if they're dumb, they are still far from harmless." Glenn sounded out of breath. Daryl watched as a second walker stumbled past the first and towards Glenn's side of the truck. The kid flinched and gasped audibly as the thing thudded its rotting hands up against his window. "We should go, Daryl!" the boy urged again as he cringed away from the door.

Daryl shook his head, but put the truck's key back in the ignition. The walkers were still only two, and were still not a huge threat in his eyes. But he could see how they might become an issue. The second the window seemed like it might crack, or more walkers came, Daryl was getting them out of there. But getting fuel was important, and he wasn't going to fuck that up just because Glenn was scared.

"Come on, Daryl!" Glenn reached over toward the ignition, likely in an attempt to start the truck back up, but Daryl grabbed his hand before he could.

"I got this under control, Chinaman. Don't forget who's in charge here," he growled, squeezing the boy's hand before letting him go and shoving him back lightly. "If you'd hold still, maybe they wouldn'ta seen ya. You just gotta relax. They can probably smell your fear, an' they can surely see you movin' around in here."

"Why don't you sit on this side then?" Glenn actually sounded a bit angry. It wasn't only fear in his voice now."You want to hold still? Try doing it with only a centimeter thick window between you and them!"

"You'll be fine," Daryl hissed, pushing Glenn away and back toward the passenger side window. He must have pushed the kid harder than he'd intended; Glenn winced as his back hit the door.

Daryl glanced back at the pump. The price was in the mid twenties now. They were half-way there if the counter wasn't off. He looked back at the walker who was clawing at the hood. It was definitely one of the dumber ones he'd seen. Probably used to be a politician.

He then allowed his gaze to shift over toward Glenn's window, where decaying hands still thudded softly at the window. He was glad the thing wasn't making too strong of an effort to get in. It probably could have if it really knew what was inside the truck waiting for him. As it were, their scent probably wasn't strong enough to make the walking corpses too excited. And maybe they hadn't seen Glenn moving around after all... Maybe their eyes were too far gone to see. They certainly looked glossed over.

Daryl glanced back at the rear-view mirror. There was nothing to be seen there. So he looked back at the pump and watched the numbers speed by for a moment. But his focus on that was lost when he felt Glenn's hands grabbing onto the back of his shirt, and hell, the kid's whole body was up against him.

"God damn it-" Daryl turned toward him. He must have been terrified to resort to such a gesture. Instead of pushing him back again, this time Daryl looked over to the window, to make sure his fear didn't have a good reason behind it. The walker was still thudding its hands against the glass, but wasn't making any progress. However, the other one seemed to have finally taken the hint and was stumbling over to Glenn's window as well.

"Please!" Glenn begged as he practically hid his face against Daryl's shoulder. "What good is fuel if we end up dead because of it!?"

Daryl sighed and glanced back at the pump. It was nearing forty dollars. "We're gettin' there, buddy," he assured the Asian kid. As much as he loathed dishing out any sort of physical comfort, he didn't push Glenn off him. He understood why the boy wouldn't want to be right next to the window. He just hoped the guy wouldn't get into the habit of snuggling up to him like a child when things got scary. Hopefully this was a one-time thing.

He looked back toward the kid's window. Now both walkers were thudding their filthy hands up against the glass, leaving red smear-marks where their rotting, bloody fingers had been. Each time one of them thudded its hands against the window, it seemed like they were putting more force into it than the time before, and each time a thudding noise could be heard, Glenn's body seemed to flinch slightly. His flinching was even sometimes accompanied by soft gasps of horror.

Time seemed to be going by slower than was possible. Waiting to fill up his truck's fuel tank always did seem to take forever, but this was just ridiculous. The numbers seemed to be moving at a snail's pace. He glanced back down at his companion. The boy's fingers were still entangled in Daryl's shirt, seemingly holding on for dear life. Little did he know, Daryl really offered no protection from those things. If one got in, they were screwed... But Daryl wasn't going to let one get in, whether Glenn was hanging on his arm or not.

Finally, one of the walkers slammed its hand against the window hard enough to produce a sickening cracking sound, which also resulted in Glenn yelping, his body flinching against the older man, and his death-grip tightening on Daryl's shirt. With that, Daryl started the truck and put it into gear. He wasn't sure if the window was actually cracked, but it hadn't sounded good. The gas tank was full enough. He wasn't going to let himself or his hostage get killed over this. He pressed his foot down on the gas pedal and sped off, leaving the walkers behind to find their next meal elsewhere.

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	3. Chapter 3

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Chapter 3

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Glenn felt himself trembling as he forced his fingers to release their death-grip on Daryl's shirt. Now that they were away from the walkers, back to the relative safety of the open road, and now that he was back in his right mind, he was shocked at himself for having grabbed onto the man like that. Daryl had threatened to cut his throat earlier today, and yet Glenn hadn't hesitated to grab onto him as though they were long time friends... He was lucky the older man hadn't punched him for that.

Still out of breath and with his heart beating hard enough he could swear he actually heard it, Glenn looked over at the truck's passenger-side window. There were bloody finger-shaped smears all over it, and a very slight crack half-way down the middle. That wasn't good. That meant the window was a lot closer to breaking than it had been before. If they encountered any more walkers like the ones back at the gas station, they'd have to be more careful. Getting into a window that was already cracked would be much easier for the geeks.

He scooted back over so that he was in his own space again and glanced over at Daryl, who had his eyes fixed intently on the road. Surprisingly, Daryl had completely ignored the fact that Glenn had grabbed onto him and cowered down against Daryl's arm. The older man hadn't said a word about it. He didn't insist that Glenn get the hell away from him... He hadn't pushed Glenn off him. He didn't even make fun of the younger man, which was the most surprising of all. Glenn scanned Daryl's hands and then his lap and pockets. Where had his knife gotten to?

He tried to be as subtle as possible as he peered down at the floor-boards of his own side of the truck. The knife wasn't there either. Maybe Daryl had folded it up and put it in his pocket. Was it even a pocket knife? It seemed pretty big, but pocket knives didn't have a size limit, and it would be just like Daryl to carry around a ridiculously huge pocket knife.

"We'll keep drivin' for maybe an hour or two," Daryl told him. "An' then we'll need to look for someplace to camp. Gotta find somewhere safe before it starts getting dark. We'll need to look around and secure the place before we settle in, an' we're gonna wanna do that while it's still light out."

Glenn nodded. "That makes sense," he forced himself to say. Really, his mind was elsewhere, but he felt the need to say something. If he could get the upper hand on Daryl, he could force the man to drive him back... Or he could at least take the truck back himself. He didn't know if he could live with himself if he left Daryl behind though. Leaving him alone without the truck would be equivalent to killing him. He'd either need to find his own means of transportation, or somehow convince Daryl to drive him back to camp.

Glenn looked over as he heard Daryl chuckling.

"What are you laughing about?" Glenn wondered. He hoped the man wasn't laughing at his expense. Daryl always seemed to be making jokes about everyone but himself. He'd make fun of people for just about anything... Because they were scared, because they weren't good at something, or even because of their race or gender.

Daryl shook his head as he continued to smile. "The gas pump's hose is still hangin' out from the tank." He gestured toward the mirror on his side of the truck. "We must of pulled it off the pump when we drove off. We've been draggin' it this whole time."

Glenn smiled. It was nice to see Daryl behaving like a normal human-being, laughing about something he thought was funny but that wasn't hurtful to anyone else. Glenn wasn't sure if he'd ever seen the man smile about anything that wasn't simultaneously making someone else frown.

"Maybe we could find a motel or something so we can sleep in beds instead of on the ground," Glenn offered. "We don't have an established camp anymore, so it would be just as safe as anywhere..."

Daryl nodded. "I was actually thinkin' the same thing. They build those doors pretty strong. It's gotta be safer than sleeping in a tent. We'll have to judge if the window situation is safe enough though. We can look around and see if there's any without swarms of dead bodies all over them - walking dead or just regular dead... I don't want to sleep right next to a bunch of corpses either way."

... ... ...

By the time Daryl and Glenn had finally found a motel that seemed completely deserted, the evening sky was starting to grow dark.

"We need to check the area fast, but carefully," Daryl instructed. "There ain't no cars around, but that don't mean others couldn't have walked here, camped here, and gotten killed here... There could be walkers in any of the rooms, or living people, which is potentially just as bad."

"We can't check all of the rooms though." Glenn frowned.

"I know." He glanced in Glenn's direction. "We'll go into the lobby first and grab a room key to one of the rooms on the back. If anyone's driving by, I don't want them to see our truck and know we're here."

Glenn nodded as Daryl pulled up to the front door. "Stay here," Daryl advised. He took the key out of the ignition and hopped out of the truck. He clearly didn't trust Glenn to be left alone with the keys, and Glenn didn't blame him. The younger man didn't want to leave Daryl behind, but he certainly did wish he could go back to camp. Glenn watched as the man walked up to the door and pulled the handle. Apparently it was locked, but that didn't stop him. The door was glass, and Daryl smashed a hole in it without even hesitating.

Wincing, Glenn looked around. Surely that sound would have attracted walkers if there were any nearby. But he didn't see any right away. Maybe the little town truly was abandoned, by both the living and the dead.

Before long, Daryl was running back out with a room key. The key was hanging on a little plastic red diamond shape which had a little white number 13 etched on it. Daryl tossed it to Glenn and hopped back into the truck.

"Lucky thirteen," Glenn mumbled.

"Yeah," Daryl scoffed and drove back around to the back of the motel. "I'd have gotten one on the second floor, but I want to back the truck up right against the window so we can get out of the room and into the truck fast if we need to, and also so the truck can kind of block the window in case something wants in."

He backed the truck up as he'd explained and then hopped out. Glenn followed.

"Get whatever you need out of the back," Daryl advised as he snatched the key back from Glenn. "And make sure to bring your bat... If we need to fight off some walkers, I want you to be able to take care of yourself. I ain't your babysitter."

Glenn frowned. He wouldn't even be here if Daryl hadn't forced him to be. But he could take care of himself and didn't need the older man talking down to him. He'd been living in this world long enough to know you don't go anywhere without a weapon if you have any choice in the matter. Even if you're traveling with other capable people, you've always got to watch your own back too.

"I'm checkin' inside. Be careful and keep your eyes open till I get back. I don't want you gettin' yerself killed. I trust you ain't stupid enough to die just by me leavin' you alone for two minutes. And don't try nothin.' I still got the truck's key, and I can shoot this crossbow a mile without missing," Daryl threatened.

Glenn glared at him as Daryl made his way over to door #13, unlocked it, and peered inside. Glenn wouldn't dream of running off just yet. It was getting dark, and without a vehicle, he'd almost surely be killed. If he was going to make his escape, it sure as hell wouldn't be now.

Using the truck's tire as a sort of ladder, Glenn climbed into the back of the pick-up. He'd need his backpack, his baseball bat, and he guessed he'd take in one of the jugs of water. The water in the room probably had gone dry by now. He wondered what Amy had stuffed his backpack with. He could feel it was full of cans. Hopefully something that didn't require cooking. Starting a fire inside the room wouldn't be a good idea.

He undid the back pack and peered inside. There was a can of pineapple. That sounded good, and wouldn't require any fire. He was pretty sure he had a hand-held can opener at the bottom of the bag. He stuck his hand down further, feeling around for the can opener. He certainly hoped he had one. If he hadn't, they'd be getting hungry pretty fast. Unless Daryl wanted to try to cut the cans open with his knife. The crazy man probably knew how too... He'd probably done it all the time, with his out-in-the-woods, surviving-off-the-land life style.

Eventually, Glenn felt something other than cans. But it wasn't the can opener. It was cold and metallic though... He felt his breath hitch when he realized what it was. It was a gun. Amy must have put it in there... It was her way of trying to help him.

Glenn looked around himself. There weren't any walkers visible, so that was good. And Daryl was still inside the room. Glenn wondered what was taking him so long. Maybe he was checking every nook and cranny, as slowly and carefully as he could.

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He felt relief that he had found a potential way out of this and back to the group, but he also felt cold fear and dread in the pit of his stomach. He wouldn't shoot Daryl. He couldn't. Bullets were reserved for bad guys - walkers and people who tried to kill other living people without good reason. Daryl wasn't either. Glenn didn't think the man would ever kill a living person unless he absolutely had to... In self-defense or something. So Glenn wouldn't kill the older man... But he could threaten to.

Would Daryl be able to see in Glenn's eyes that he could never actually pull the trigger? Glenn would have to keep up his threat until they made it back to camp, because he couldn't leave Daryl behind. Could he control the older man for that long? He had to try...

He pulled the clip out of the gun. It held eight bullets, and they were all still there. He wondered where Amy had gotten it. It didn't look like a gun a police officer would carry, but he wasn't really a gun expert. He had no idea what the thing was called or who would have had use for it back before the dead started getting back up. Maybe it had been Dale's, or Andrea's... It didn't much matter really. Nowadays, everyone seemed to carry a gun, even unlikely people like Amy.

He pushed the clip back in and tucked the gun into the front of his pants. He'd wait until he had a good opportunity before making any threat. His timing was going to be crucial. One wrong move and Daryl might claim the gun. Glenn didn't even want to think about what could happen then...

"All clear," Daryl called out as he emerged from the room. "You got any candles in that bag of yours?" he asked.

Glenn nodded. He'd actually just picked up a bunch of candles right before they'd found Rick in the city. He'd never gotten around to taking them out of his backpack, so he assumed they were all still in there.

"Good. 'Cause it's dark in there." Daryl walked up to the truck. "Hand me whatever you can't carry. We got to get everything we need inside. Don't want to dick around out here all night."

Glenn handed him the jug of water and swung his backpack over his own shoulder. He held onto his baseball bat as well. "That's it," he told Daryl. "We didn't really bring much. Unless you want to bring anything in just in case it rains or something."

"All that's left is an empty gas tank, a tent, and water. It'll be fine out here. Don't look like it's supposed to rain anyway," Daryl assured him. He reached his hand up as if to offer it to Glenn to help him down.

The younger man hesitated for a moment. He really wanted Daryl to stay away from him. If the man saw the outline of the gun under Glenn's shirt, he might be angry enough to kill him. But he didn't want to refuse the kind gesture either, so he let Daryl grab onto his forearm and keep him upright as he jumped out of the back of the truck and onto the ground.

He followed Daryl inside the room and lit one of his candles. "This isn't going to provide much light," he said as Daryl closed the door and locked the bolt lock. "But I don't want to use these any faster than we have to. We should try to conserve them."

"Yup," Daryl agreed, grabbing the backpack off Glenn's shoulder. Glenn was so glad he'd taken the gun out of it before Daryl had a chance to find it. What would the man have done if he'd found the gun first?

"Pineapple or peaches?" Daryl asked.

"Pineapple," Glenn responded.

"You got a can opener in here?" Daryl asked as he sifted through the bag.

"I'm not sure," Glenn told him. "I usually do... but I'm not sure when the last time we used it was... It might not have been put back."

"Nah. It's here." Daryl pulled it out of the bag and waved it about briefly. He tossed Glenn the can of pineapple and began working on the can of peaches for himself. "I know this ain't much," he explained. "But your girlfriend didn't really pack ya much... Guess she assumes that since she barely eats anything, neither does anybody else. Maybe we'll look for some shops along the road tomorrow and find something that don't need cookin, chips or somethin."

Glenn nodded as he remained ever aware of the cold metallic object under his shirt, pressed up against his stomach. When would be the right time to make use of it? He was so scared of what might happen if he threatened Daryl like the older man had done to him. Glenn hadn't been entirely sure if Daryl would actually deliver on his threat. But Daryl might know Glenn didn't have it in him... What if Daryl didn't take him seriously? What if he just walked up and took the gun away? What if he was so angry that Glenn had stood up to him that he stopped pretending to be half-nice? What if he got so fed up that he actually did kill the younger man?

"You listenin' ta me?" he heard Daryl ask.

"What?" Glenn looked over at him, shaking his head slightly and blinking. He had been zoned out, apparently.

Daryl held up the can opener. "I'm tossin' this over to ya," he stated. "Didn't wanna smack you upside the head with it while ya weren't payin' attention."

Glenn forced a smile and caught the object as Daryl tossed it over. "Thanks," he breathed out nervously.

Daryl didn't seem like such a bad companion right now. Glenn's life didn't really seem to be in danger while he was under the older man's watch. It wasn't as though getting out of this immediately was a dire necessity. But the further they drove away from camp, the more likely Glenn wouldn't be able to make his way back for whatever reason... Maybe he'd get lost. Or maybe the others would have been forced to move on... Or maybe Daryl wouldn't let him leave, or would actually end up killing him. Or maybe they'd run into walkers at some point that would be too much to handle. He really wanted to get back to the camp he thought of as home as soon as possible.

"Kinda weird ta have a bed again," Daryl commented.

"Yeah," Glenn agreed. Fortunately Daryl had chosen a room with two beds, so they each had one. And the bed Glenn had seated himself on felt so comfortable. It was a cheap motel - the mattress wasn't anything special, but at this point, any bed at all was a luxury.

"I ain't used to havin' a bed. Even before all this shit hit the fan, I didn't usually sleep in a bed," Daryl confessed.

Glenn frowned. Was Daryl actually going to talk to him about his life? That was new... He thought the man wasn't willing to speak about himself, especially not to Glenn. But if Daryl actually wanted to talk, Glenn was certainly willing to listen. Maybe he could start to understand the man. "Why not?" Glenn wondered. "Why didn't you usually sleep in a bed?"

"Didn't have one," Daryl shrugged. "I slept under the stars some nights if my hunt went too long. Or in a tent if I was lucky enough to have one. But even when I was home, I usually just slept on the couch. I remember having a bed for a while when I was younger though."

"You just didn't feel like buying one when you got your own place or what?" Glenn asked. He could understand why Daryl wouldn't have had a bed if he was a child and his family couldn't afford one, but why wouldn't he have bought himself one as an adult?

"Guess I got used to sleepin' on the couch or the floor. Bed seemed like a waste of space." Daryl shrugged. "It's like buying a van to drive when you don't got a family. Why waste all that extra space? I can sleep on a couch just fine."

"Oh." Glenn looked down. "Well... I don't think they're a waste of space."

"You ever gone without one besides recently?" Daryl raised an eyebrow. "I think once you find you're able to function without a bed, you'll see how worthless they really are."

"I didn't even have my own house for a while before this," Glenn admitted. "I got myself really far into debt and had to sell everything and stay with friends... So yeah... I went without a bed. I slept on the floor, in the bath tub, on the couch... pretty much wherever I'd fit, with whoever would have me. Sometimes a bathtub was seriously the best they had to offer. Sleeping in a tub isn't really that bad, but I prefer a mattress. I still appreciate beds very much."

Daryl narrowed his eyes. "Really? You let yer life get that fucked up? You seem like the type who'd have his shit together. I wouldn't peg you as the sort who'd let himself go into debt," he commented. "Thought you'd be smarter than that... What with you bein' a Jap an' all."

Glenn frowned and shook his head. "That's just a stereotype... And I'm not Japanese."

"Whatever ya are," Daryl sighed. "I thought you people were smart."

"Only some of us are." Glenn glared at him. He did feel a little ashamed bout getting himself into debt. Of course, none of it mattered now, but he still felt like an idiot for letting it happen back when it did matter. Maybe he shouldn't have mentioned it... He probably should have known better than to assume Daryl would be at all understanding of anyone's mistakes but his own.

Daryl laughed and shrugged his shoulders. "Everybody's got flaws, right? But you're not completely worthless. Yer good at runnin' around collecting stuff," he offered. Maybe Daryl wasn't going to be such a jerk about this after all... "Which, come to think of it it, seems more like what a Jew would be good at." Nope... The older man wasn't through yet.

Glenn just stared at him. Why did he delight so much in making fun of absolutely everyone he could? The more rude things Daryl said, the more Glenn thought the guy was saying them just for shock effect. There was no way he could be stupid enough to believe all of those stereotypes. And he couldn't have possibly really hated every single thing about every single person he met... "You should be grateful I collected that stuff. Or else you wouldn't be eating peaches right now... And we wouldn't have any other canned food. Or candles... I may not know how to hunt like you, but what I do is still important, and you shouldn't talk down to me..." He wasn't sure why he didn't just shut up and let it go. It wasn't like he was going to change the way Daryl saw the world, and this guy had forced him to come here by threatening his life... But for some reason, Glenn couldn't help but to try to talk sense into people who seemed to need it. Even intimidating people like Daryl.

"You're not a Jew, are ya?" It seemed Daryl wasn't done being an ass yet. "Don't think I ever saw a Chinese jew. Aren't they usually white people?"

Glenn sighed and shook his head. "I imagine they can be any race... You can be whatever religion you believe in, no matter where you come from. But no... I'm not Jewish."

Daryl shrugged. "We're gettin' up early tomorrow," he informed Glenn. "Blow out that candle before you go to bed. Don't want to have made it all the way through this shit just to die in a motel fire." He laid down on top of the covers on his bed and turned over on his side so that he was facing away from Glenn.

The younger man frowned. Daryl sure wasn't very socially acceptable. But at least he hadn't snapped at Glenn for talking back to him.

"And don't try nothin' stupid," Daryl advised as he still faced away from Glenn. "I got the keys, an' ya can't get anywhere without the truck... If I wake up to you tryin' ta steal them from me, or you tryin' ta get out the door, you'll regret it."

Glenn didn't say anything. He wouldn't try anything just yet... But he might tomorrow morning...

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	4. Chapter 4

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Chapter 4

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Glenn hadn't had an easy time sleeping last night. Even though he was in an actual bed for the first time in ages and he should have felt really comfortable and relaxed, he was just too nervous to get any real sleep.

He was nervous that Daryl kept threatening him and because of the fact he couldn't be sure if these threats should be taken seriously or not. He didn't think Daryl would actually do anything to him, but the man just might if Glenn disobeyed his orders... His orders for Glenn to not try to escape... Glenn was incredibly anxious now, because he was planning on turning the tables very soon and wasn't quite sure how to do it. If he messed up, it might cost him his life. If there would come a time that Daryl was going to get angry enough to actually deliver on his threats, it would probably be after Glenn threatened the older man... He was certain Daryl wouldn't take kindly to such a gesture.

Glenn had been sleeping and waking on and off all through the night. By now it was early morning and he felt simply exhausted. His eyes burned from lack of sleep, his limbs felt heavy, and he was beginning to feel a bit of a headache coming on. He wasn't sure how much sleep he had actually managed to get, but it couldn't have been much. He glanced over at the other bed, where Daryl was lying still and mostly silent; the other man seemed to have managed sleeping last night much better than Glenn had. It sounded like the older man was snoring lightly. Glenn knew Daryl would probably be getting up soon, but the older man seemed to still be sound asleep right now. Maybe Glenn could catch a few more minutes of sleep before Daryl woke up...

Lying on his back, Glenn stared up at the ceiling. The room was dim, but he could still just barely see the bumpy texture of the paint... or whatever it was up there... Plaster or something... He was no architect. He put his hands over his stomach, just as he'd been doing frequently throughout the night. His gun was still in place. He was lucky he hadn't shot himself on accident. Of course, he hadn't really slept much, so it's not like he could have rolled around much without doing so on purpose. He knew his opportunity to get any sleep was slowly drifting away from him, but at the rate his mind was going, sleep seemed an impossibility at this point.

When he was confident he wasn't going to be able to fall back asleep, Glenn pulled himself out of bed as quietly as he could. He could see a line of light between the curtain and the wall. It was still very early, but it was morning. The sun was up by now, and realistically, they could head out as soon as Daryl wanted to.

Cautiously Glenn made his way over to the window and peeked out. He had moved the curtain only very slightly, just far enough so that he could see, but so that the light wouldn't flood in and wake his companion. He didn't see any walkers outside. The town seemed just as dead as it had the evening before. Glenn was actually incredibly surprised they hadn't seen any walkers at all near the motel. They had been unusually lucky in that regard. Maybe they'd all headed into the city to scavenge the last of the surviving people. Or maybe they'd gone into the woods to kill and eat anything else they could get their rotting hands on. He knew for a fact the geeks weren't opposed to eating non-human animals. They'd sure had a feast on the poor horse Rick had ridden into the city on.

He froze and held his breath as he heard movement on the bed behind him. The sheets made a ruffling noise and the mattress springs squeaked a bit as though the bed's occupant was stirring. Daryl must have woken up.

"You 'bout ready to head off?" He heard the older man yawn behind him.

"Yeah," Glenn breathed, still very aware of the gun stuck in the waist band of his jeans. If he was going to do something, his opportune moment was going to be sometime really soon, and that fact terrified him. He didn't feel ready to take a stand against the older man, but he knew there would never come a point when he would feel confident enough. As dreadful as it made him feel even just to think about it, Glenn knew he'd have to force himself into action when the time came. Once they got back into that truck, he'd be getting even further from the camp and the others. He had to act before then...

"You see anything out there?" Daryl asked as he walked up behind Glenn and pulled the curtain back a bit further.

Glenn felt himself shrinking away from Daryl slightly as the man stood right behind him, with his arm raised up and his hand pressed against the wall, sort of trapping Glenn between him and the window. He probably hadn't even meant to, but it still made Glenn nervous. Every second that passed, Glenn felt more and more paranoid that Daryl might know something was up.

As Daryl observed the area, Glenn held completely still as he waited for the man to say or do something more. Daryl exhaled and Glenn swore he felt the man's breath very slightly against the back of his head. "Alright. Let's pack up this stuff an' get out of here."

Glenn nodded and breathed out a sigh of relief as Daryl stepped back away from him.

He collected his back pack and bat and made his way toward the door.

"You want some water before we go?" Daryl asked as he took a long drink out of the jug they'd brought in the night before.

Now that he mentioned it, Glenn did feel quite parched. "Yeah." He nodded and took the jug as Daryl offered it to him. He took a long drink as well and then handed it back.

"Alright. Let's go," Daryl ordered. He led the way as Glenn followed him out to the truck. They each put their supplies in the back.

"You driving?" Glenn wondered. If Daryl was driving, Glenn would have an easier time with his whole plan with the gun. Daryl couldn't do much if he had to worry about keeping the truck on the road too. But if Glenn was going to be asked to drive, he'd have to do something now, or else he might not get the chance later. He wouldn't be able to effectively threaten Daryl at the same time as he was trying to drive.

"What is that?" Daryl asked.

"What?" Glenn looked over at him. Daryl was looking down at Glenn's stomach.

For a moment, Glenn felt paralyzed. He felt his eyes growing wide and his mouth going dry as his stomach felt like it did a flip. He stared back at Daryl and swallowed, trying to come up with an answer to the man's question that wouldn't turn this moment into something very painful or possibly fatal. What was he going to do? What was he going to say? How could he cover this up? Or should he just take the gun out and do this? Show the man that he was serious and was ready for this ordeal to end...

"I said what is that." Daryl sounded quite angry. He looked pissed too... Glenn was pretty sure the other man knew exactly what it was Glenn was hiding under his shirt. He just wanted an explanation. "What the fuck is that?" Daryl growled again, clearly losing every tiny ounce of patience he possessed as he took a step forward.

Shaking his head, Glenn stepped back until his body collided with the side of the truck. Daryl couldn't have been more than five feet away from him. If Glenn didn't do something now, Daryl probably would. So he reached down and grabbed up the gun, holding it up and pointing it toward the other man as he tried to will his arms to stop shaking.

"Stay back," Glenn ordered. His heart was pounding so loudly he wondered if Daryl could hear it too. "Don't you take one more step," he rephrased, trying to keep his voice calm and strong, regardless of the fear in his heart.

"Where the fuck you get that?" Daryl wondered, nodding toward the gun. The older man's eyebrow was arched. He looked half-way angry, and half-way confused, but he didn't look scared at all.

Glenn didn't answer. He didn't want Daryl to be angry at Amy, who was probably the person who'd put the gun in his backpack. He just wanted to go home. "You're taking me back," Glenn demanded, keeping the gun held out in front of him. "To camp... Right now."

Daryl shook his head. "No I'm not." He raised his eyebrow and stared at Glenn as though he was testing the younger man's resolve. Likely, he was trying to see just how much he could walk all over Glenn, even when the younger of the two was the one with the weapon. Glenn knew Daryl wasn't the kind of person who would stand down easily, even when his life was threatened. But maybe he didn't even feel threatened right now...

Glenn hesitated. He needed Daryl to see that he was serious, and he wanted the man to think he'd really shoot him if he didn't back off, even though Glenn didn't think he really would. "Either you're taking me back, or you're staying here," Glenn informed him. He was shocked at just how serious his voice sounded. "And if you try anything... Anything at all, I won't hesitate to pull the trigger," he lied. He offered Daryl a hard stare and waited for the older man's response.

Daryl shook his head. "Put the gun down, kid," he ordered. "And we'll forget all about this."

"No," Glenn persisted. "Either get in the driver's seat, or give me the keys. I'm going back with or without you. Don't underestimate how serious I am," he warned. "You've been in charge long enough. I'm in charge now. We're going back."

Daryl took another step forward as he narrowed his eyes and scowled. "You're really startin' ta piss me off..." His eyes reflected said emotion, but his movements remained slow and careful. Maybe he couldn't quite see through Glenn after all. Maybe he thought the younger man really might shoot him. It would be extraordinarily careless of Daryl to not take Glenn seriously at all right now. He really didn't know Glenn that well, and the younger man was pointing a deadly weapon right at him.

"Don't come any closer!" Glenn demanded, shaking the gun a bit for emphasis. "I don't want to shoot you, Daryl, but I will." He heard his voice raising and hoped there weren't any walkers nearby. The last thing they needed was to have to deal with that too.

The more he stood out here in the open, the more panicked he was becoming. He wanted desperately to look around himself and make sure there were no walkers coming near them. But he also needed to keep his eye on Daryl to make sure the man didn't try anything. Daryl wasn't making this easy. He didn't seem at all willing to go along with anything Glenn said, even though Glenn had a loaded gun aimed right at him. On top of all that, the younger man was so nervous and his heart was pounding so fast that he felt like he might pass out.

"Glenn..." Daryl scowled at him intently. "Give me the fucking gun, right now." He stepped forward again, close enough that he could actually reach out and grab the gun if he dared.

"Get back, Daryl!" Glenn yelled. He tried to back himself up more, but he was already up against the truck. He couldn't move back any further. With each passing second, he felt his calm facade fading. It was becoming more and more difficult to keep his voice from shaking. "I mean it!" Glenn was breathing so heavily. Daryl could probably tell how scared Glenn was, but the younger man wasn't backing down. It was too late for that. He'd already threatened Daryl with a gun. If the older man got his hands on it now, he'd probably shoot Glenn for sure, just to get even - to show Glenn that he wasn't going to put up with the younger man standing up to him like that.

"Shhh..." Daryl hissed as he glanced around them for a moment. "You need to shut the fuck up - stop yellin' an' wakin' up the whole damn town... Give me the god damned gun and get in the truck. I'm through playin' with you."

Glenn shook his head. "No, I'm through playing with you!" he argued. He could hear the panic in his own voice. "Give me the keys, or get in the driver's side. I'm going back with or without you. I don't see why you can force me to leave, but I can't force you to go back! You don't even have to stay! Those people are my family now! I didn't want to leave them!" He could feel himself getting emotional, and had to put a lot of effort into keeping himself from breaking down. He needed to stay strong.

But his emotions must have distracted him just enough to give Daryl the window of opportunity he needed. Daryl must have seen that flicker of weakness and fear in Glenn's eyes. Before Glenn even knew what was happening, he felt Daryl's hands on his wrists and felt his body being harshly slammed up against the side of the truck.

Glenn winced in pain and coughed as the air was knocked out of his lungs. Even though he felt somewhat dizzy from the impact his body had made with the truck, he stayed as focused as he could as he tried to maintain his grip on the gun. "Get off me!" he cried out as Daryl wrestled him to the ground. He ended up lying on his back with Daryl hovering over him, straddling him with one of his legs on either side of Glenn's hips.

"Let go of the gun," Daryl growled as he gripped Glenn's wrists tight enough to cause him pain. He squeezed both of his hands into fists around Glenn's slender arms in an attempt to get the younger man to let go of the weapon.

Glenn struggled to throw the bigger man off him and free his own wrists, but Daryl's grip was impossibly strong. "Let me go!" Glenn pleaded. He felt like his arms might snap if Daryl didn't ease up. He heard a whimper escape his own lips as he pulled at his arms in an attempt to free himself, but still held onto the gun as tightly as he could.

He stared up into Daryl's eyes for a moment as he tried to find the correct words to convince the man not to kill him. Daryl's intense, angry blue eyes stared down at him. He could see in the older man's eyes that he was absolutely furious. But Glenn couldn't think of anything he could say that would make this better. All he could do now was try not to lose his grip on the gun.

"God damn it, kid," Daryl hissed as he squeezed Glenn's arms even tighter.

Glenn cried out in pain and fear as he finally lost his grip on the gun. He could hear it clatter against the ground above his head, but he couldn't move to retrieve it. He hissed in pain again as Daryl's grip around his arms refused to loosen.

Both men looked up toward the gun which was now lying on the ground near enough that either man could reach it if his hands were free.

As Daryl let go of one of Glenn's wrists, both men reached for the weapon, but Glenn hadn't been as fast as Daryl had been... The older man snatched up the gun in an instant, and just like that, Glenn's brief moment of control was officially over.

Glenn reached for Daryl's arm with his free hand and grabbed onto the older man's wrist as he felt the end of the gun being pressed up against his jaw.

"Daryl, please don't!" Glenn cried out as he squeezed his eyes shut. Before, he had felt relatively confident that Daryl wouldn't actually kill him, but he wasn't so sure now. Glenn had threatened to kill the older man. Daryl was beyond pissed now, and with somewhat good reason. Glenn could feel his lungs burning as he struggled to force air in and out of them in his state of panic, and he could feel the cold metal of the gun against his skin. He didn't know what else to say to the man now that he'd lost his upper hand, so he just kept his eyes shut and waited for what he hoped wouldn't be death.

... ... ...

Daryl glared angrily down at the boy below him as he pressed the gun threateningly against Glenn's jaw. He was so pissed that the kid had had the nerve to pull a gun on him, and was even more pissed that he'd somehow managed to get it here in the first place. Had he had it on him the whole time? Daryl didn't think so... So it must have been in the back of the truck. One of the women had probably put it back there for him. He had warned them not to be trying shit like that, but they hadn't listened. Just like always, those idiots thought they could just ignore everything Daryl advised. He didn't say the things he said just to hear his own voice. He wondered if there'd ever come a time when people would pull their heads out of their asses for a god damned minute and actually follow his advice. He bet they hadn't counted on this happening... Daryl could kill the boy right now if he wanted to.

As he straddled the kid's body, he could feel Glenn's chest rising and falling rapidly and could feel the boy's fingers trembling as he grasped feebly at Daryl's arm, the same arm Daryl was using to hold the gun up. He also heard occasional soft, frightened whimpers escaping from the boy's throat. He wasn't sure if those were from Glenn being scared, or in pain, but at this point, he didn't much care.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" Daryl hissed, pressing the gun harder against the boy's jaw and shaking him by his left arm, which Daryl still held onto tightly.

Glenn kept his eyes closed. "I don't know..." he stammered. "I just wanted to go home..." He seemed like he could barely speak between his too-frantic breaths. The boy whimpered slightly each time Daryl shoved the end of the gun harder against his skin.

"Home?" Daryl muttered under his breath. Did he really think of the camp as his home? Daryl hadn't thought about it that way before... He'd actually taken Glenn away from his home. He wasn't just holding him hostage... He'd kind of kidnapped him. But he had promised to let him go eventually... Glenn should have just waited this out. Daryl even told him that the plan all along was for Glenn to get to go back eventually...

"Please don't kill me," Glenn pleaded in a small voice between frantic breaths. He sounded exhausted, like he could barely manage to get any words out of his mouth at all. "I'm sorry I threatened you," he added. "I'm sorry... I just wanted to go back... I didn't know what else to do. I wasn't ever going to shoot you... Not really... I swear... I just wanted to scare you into taking me back. Don't kill me," he continued in a panicked ramble.

Daryl stared down at him, but kept the gun firmly in place, the end of it pushed threateningly up against the boy's jaw. Glenn's eyes were still shut tightly and he looked like he was trying to turn his head as far away from Daryl as he could. He looked scared, of course, but his mouth was also set in a mixture between a frown and a pout. He actually looked sad. He probably really did think Daryl was going to kill him.

But Daryl wasn't going to. He was furious that Glenn had threatened him, but he felt pretty confident that the kid's threats weren't ever serious. The younger man could never shoot someone. He even seemed hesitant to kill the undead. He wouldn't shoot the living. But Glenn didn't know that Daryl felt the same way. Daryl wasn't in the business to just kill people because they made him mad or because he didn't like them. He'd never kill anyone if he didn't have to, and he was pretty sure he'd never have to kill Glenn unless the kid got bitten and turned into a walker.

What was Daryl supposed to do now? In a way, it was good that Glenn was scared of him. He needed Glenn to remember his place. If the boy wasn't afraid, Daryl would have a difficult time getting him to keep complying with the older man's orders. But Daryl wasn't a sadist. He didn't enjoy any of this. He just needed things to go smoothly, and having a hostage who was compliant was the best way to ensure that. In fact, he found he felt somewhat disappointed in Glenn for making this so difficult on himself. Daryl was content with just having the kid go along with his orders and getting through this without incident. He hadn't had any desire to have to tackle the kid to the ground and threaten him so violently.

When Daryl heard Glenn whimper beneath him, he remembered how tightly he had been holding onto the kid's wrist and noticed he had pressed the gun pretty harshly against Glenn's jaw. Daryl was probably hurting him.

Just as he was preparing to ease up, he noticed Glenn opening his eyes. The boy's dark eyes were wide and uncertain as they stared up into his for a moment, and in the same instant, Daryl felt a sharp pain between his legs as the kid kneed him hard in the groin.

"God damn it! FUCK!" Daryl growled, and before he could even think about what he was doing, he slammed the butt of the pistol down hard against Glenn's temple. He had to fight the urge to punch the kid over and over again. Fortunately for Glenn, Daryl's pain outweighed his anger, so he focused on himself instead of on the boy who'd just kneed him between his legs.

Daryl stood up and stumbled a few paces away, doubled over in pain. "Why the fuck you do that for?" he whined. "I was just about ready to let you up, you god damned jackass..." Daryl continued trying to recompose himself as he did his best to ignore the pain between his legs. "Fuckin' cheap shot..." he mumbled in aggravation.

He looked over at the kid who was still lying on the ground. Glenn had his hand held up against his head, was beginning to curl himself into a ball on his side, and was moaning softly.

"Shit," Daryl stepped back over toward him, ignoring his own pain. He hadn't even meant to hit the kid. If he'd had a few seconds to think about what he was doing, he never would have hit him. It wasn't like Glenn was a real threat to him. Daryl wasn't in desperate need of defending himself against the boy. Hitting him back was just a reflex. People didn't often dare to hit Daryl, and when they did, they often ended up suffering a lot worse than he did as a result. "You alright?" Daryl asked as he knelt down over Glenn. He reached for the kid's face.

The boy flinched away. "I'm sorry..." he mumbled as he reached up with his other hand and pushed Daryl's away. "I thought you were going to kill me... I kept pleading with you, but you wouldn't let go... you just grabbed me harder... I didn't know what else to do..."

Daryl sighed. Glenn looked so defeated and hurt. Daryl was surprised he even gave a shit at all,considering the boy had been the one who started this whole argument... But he did indeed feel a little guilty. "Sorry I hit you," he apologized in a low voice, even though it felt awkward for him to apologize to anyone. "But if you ever knee me in the crotch again, I'ma hit you even harder," he added as he reached out and grabbed Glenn's hand, pulling him to his feet and then pushing him back against the truck.

He looked the boy over, hoping he didn't have a concussion. Daryl could hit pretty hard when he wanted to, or when he did so without thinking. Sometimes he didn't know his own strength. He wasn't really sure how hard he'd hit the kid, but judging by Glenn's reaction, it had probably been pretty hard. Glenn's eyes looked okay. They were wide and still looked frightened, but his pupils weren't huge or anything. He did, however, have a small cut above his eye and would probably end up having a bruise there as well.

"Can you see straight an' everything?" Daryl asked as he bent down a bit and focused his gaze on Glenn's eyes.

Glenn nodded. "Yeah..." he gasped. Daryl noticed the kid's gaze shift down briefly at the gun Daryl still held in his hand. Glenn was still breathing rapidly and was trembling a bit. Daryl didn't blame the boy for not trusting him. Daryl hadn't give him any reason to.

"I'll drive," Daryl offered. "As long as you don't fuck with me," he offered the boy a threatening stare.

Glenn shook his head. "I won't," he promised in an out-of-breath voice.

"Good," Daryl sighed as he climbed into the driver's side of the truck. "Let's get the fuck out of here."

xxxxxx


	5. Chapter 5

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Chapter 5

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Gripping the gun in his left hand and the steering wheel in his right hand, Daryl guided the truck down the highway. Just like before, the duo had become very quiet. But this silence was different. Daryl didn't usually mind silence. In fact, he preferred it. But this time it actually felt awkward. Glenn's silence wasn't a result of him being angry at something rude Daryl had said, or just from the boy being shy. He was acting like a kid would if another kid beat the hell out of him - like he was actually hurt, both physically and emotionally. Not only was Glenn not speaking, but he was actually pouting like a teenager who had been punished for doing something wrong.

The boy had his legs drawn up onto the seat with one arm wrapped around them. His other elbow was resting on the ledge in front of the truck's window, and his head was held up by his hand. He was staring out the window and seemed like he had tried to scoot himself as far away from Daryl as he could.

Daryl sighed loudly as he glanced back at the road. "Don't act all pissy with me," he muttered, turning his focus back at Glenn for a second.

"I'm not," Glenn said, but still refused to look at the older man.

"Yeah ya are." Daryl glared at him. "You're the one who started this. Stop acting like I just lashed out and attacked you, because I didn't. Don't pull a gun on someone if ya don't want 'em gettin' pissed off."

Glenn didn't say anything. Daryl knew he wanted to though. He probably finally realized that Daryl wasn't going to put up with any of his shit and wasn't going to even bother considering any argument or reasoning he had behind that dumb ass move he had pulled back at the motel.

"What the fuck were you planning anyway?" Daryl wondered. "If I hadn't seen you had the gun, what were you gonna do?" Daryl was certain Glenn wouldn't have actually shot him. If he had it in him to do so, he'd have done it when he had the chance, and when he'd seemed so sure his life was in danger - when he'd been certain Daryl was going to kill him. But he hadn't done it then, so he'd probably never have done it. If Daryl hadn't discovered the gun, Glenn probably would have just kept it hidden, waiting for the right moment... And he probably wouldn't have ever felt the time was right. He'd have been too scared to actually carry out any plan he might have had.

Glenn shrugged but still refused to make eye-contact with the other man.

"Well, listen," Daryl sighed. "I don't want you to be pissed off at me. We still gotta travel together for a while." He took the clip out of the gun and handed it over to Glenn. "No one's gonna shoot anybody. We'll reserve this for emergencies only. I guess I get why you did what you did... You just wanted to go back, an' thought that was your way out. It wasn't smart, but I see why ya did it. An' if it's alright with you, I suggest we can just forget about it all together. No hard feelings. Even though you hit me with a cheap shot..."

Glenn took the gun's clip, shoved it in the truck's glove box, and glared at Daryl. "And you threatened to slit my throat and kidnapped me."

Daryl laughed. "Guess we're even then."

"I think I'd have to kick you in the balls a few more times before I'd call it even." Glenn narrowed his eyes at the older man. "You threatened me, took me away from the group against my will, you make fun of me all the time, and you hit me in the head with a gun. I'm lucky I don't have a concussion... I think I deserve to get a few more good kicks in."

"Well, that ain't gonna happen." Daryl smirked. "So I'm calling it even."

Glenn looked back out the window. He still seemed reluctant to even face toward Daryl and obviously hadn't forgiven him, but at least he was talking - arguing with Daryl. He was glad Glenn didn't act like he really feared for his life anymore. The kid seemed more angry than frightened. Daryl didn't see why he was taking the whole thing so personally though. If Daryl really hated him, if he was really truly furious with him, he'd have shot the kid or left him back at the motel. The fact that he'd made sure to take Glenn with him should have been seen as a compliment to the boy. But apparently Glenn didn't see it that way.

Daryl had already sort of apologized, and that was hard enough for him to do. He wasn't going to spend any more time on trying to make pseudo friends with the guy. Glenn would just have to get over it.

So Daryl focused back on the road. He wondered what his own plan actually was. When he'd left the group, he was doing it mostly out of rage, and didn't really have much of an idea of where he planned to go. He had been so angry they'd left his brother behind to die on that roof top. After they'd allowed that to happen, Daryl didn't want anything to do with them.

And of course, he didn't really like being around other people even before those assholes had betrayed him. His decision to leave was based on a mixture of being personally angry with the others and hating people in general. He preferred to be on his own, or with only his brother. In fact, if Merle had been there instead of Glenn, his current arrangement would be perfect.

He and Merle could just drive around until they felt like stopping. They could live in a different place every day, and people sure as hell would be reluctant to fuck with them if they were both there. The Dixon brothers looked pretty intimidating. But just one Dixon and a little Asian kid probably wouldn't intimidate people much. So having Glenn here instead of Merle meant Daryl would have to be more careful. He felt like he had to look after Glenn more than he had to look after Merle.

Merle could be kind of loud and stupid, but at least he was physically strong. Merle could afford to let a few walkers ambush him. The older Dixon was capable of beating them back with his fists if he needed to. Glenn, on the other hand, would probably need to try harder to avoid them, as many of the walkers were probably stronger than he was.

If it had been Merle here instead of Glenn, Daryl wouldn't have to worry about his brother pulling a gun on him, or running off to try to escape. He also wouldn't have to try so hard not to hurt Merle's feelings, or hurt him physically. When Daryl and Merle fought, they could go all out and beat the fuck out of each other without much worry of doing any serious damage. Daryl loved Merle more than anyone, but that didn't stop him from punching his brother in the face when Daryl felt Merle deserved it. They'd get into fist fights over anything and everything, and there was never really much harm done. Sure, a broken bone here and there, and scrapes and bruises would result, and maybe the loser of said fight might be a little pissed for a couple minutes to an hour, but they got over it quick, and no one was hurt too seriously or felt bad in the end. But Glenn wasn't built like Merle. When Daryl smacked him, Glenn didn't jump back up and tackle Daryl like Merle would have. Hitting Glenn didn't make Daryl feel victorious like hitting Merle did. Hitting Glenn made Daryl feel bad, even when Glenn was the one who started the whole argument.

Daryl glanced back over at the boy. He was still curled up against the door, but his arms were limp now instead of wrapped around himself. He was a bit more slumped over against the door than he had been before. He looked like he was asleep. He must have really been exhausted to be able to fall asleep in that position.

The older man couldn't believe how bad this kid was making him feel. Daryl had hit people before... Lots of times, and he never felt bad afterwards... He supposed he didn't usually have to deal with people like Glenn. Usually when Daryl had to resort to hitting someone, it would be someone who was tougher. He shouldn't have had to hit Glenn... And if he had been in his right mind, he wouldn't have. If he could have gone back, he'd have handled the situation differently. Once he'd had control over the gun, he'd have let the boy up. Daryl hadn't planned on Glenn putting up such a fight. He had been completely unprepared for such a scenario, so when it happened, he acted faster than his mind could come up with a plan that wasn't so violent.

Daryl could see the boy's wrists had finger-shaped bruises all over them. Daryl had made those. He supposed he had forgotten that he didn't need to put so much force into holding Glenn down. He'd probably been a little more rough than necessary.

He looked back at the road and then glanced back over at his companion again, noting the bruises on Glenn's brow and jaw as well. Daryl was the cause of those also. He really wished the boy hadn't discovered that gun... Or he wished that the women hadn't sneaked it in with their supplies, if that's how it got there.

Until then, Daryl felt like things had been going pretty smoothly. Just when the kid seemed like he was becoming comfortable traveling with the older man, he'd gone and forced Daryl to knock him down a couple pegs. Daryl really didn't want to have to hurt him like that... He just didn't know what else to do when the little fucker had pulled a gun on him. He had been pretty sure Glenn wouldn't really shoot him, but he didn't know the kid well enough to be absolutely certain. He had to react somehow, and tackling the kid to the ground and forcing the gun away from him seemed like the most practical solution. And then from there, his blind rage had kind of taken over.

Daryl stared at the road as he continued driving. He couldn't believe he actually felt so much regret for hurting the kid. Glenn had brought it upon himself. What had he expected Daryl to do?

He glanced back toward the boy. Glenn was curling in on himself a bit more. Daryl wondered just how scared of him the younger man was. He wanted Glenn to be a little scared, but the way he was acting right now just made Daryl feel like a cruel bully. And the kid seemed utterly exhausted. Had he been up all night worrying about carrying out whatever plan he had for the gun? Or had he been worried of what Daryl might do to him? Daryl didn't normally care about how other people felt about him... But that's because Daryl was normally correct in everything he said or did. This time, he actually felt like he might be a little wrong.

When Daryl had taken Glenn away from the camp, he'd had no intention of causing any injury to the boy. He had just needed a hostage... All of this threats were just that: threats. He didn't intend to act on any of them. But Glenn didn't know that. He'd probably been fearing for his life this whole time, and he saw the gun as a way to get himself back to safety... He hadn't pulled the gun out on his captor just to be difficult. He'd done it because he was scared. He felt trapped, and that had looked like his only option.

Sighing, Daryl continued driving in silence. Maybe he needed to ease up a little bit...

... ... ...

Glenn's dreams were filled with the same horrors as they always were. He was running for his life, being pursued by the undead. Their rotting, hands reached out toward him from every direction, and no matter how long and hard he ran, he couldn't escape them. They were countless, and ran just as fast as he did, grabbing at him with their decaying claws, staring at him with their clouded eyes - or with the gaping holes where their eyes should have been. Even the ones without eyes seemed to be able to see him somehow. Maybe they found him by his scent. It was a sad day indeed when nightmares and waking could be so easily confused.

He reflexively jerked his arm away as he felt something grabbing at it. "No..." he mumbled as he was pulled out of his state of sleep. He opened his eyes and remembered where he was. He wasn't being eaten by zombies... He was enclosed in the relative safety of the truck. And it hadn't been walkers grabbing at his limbs. It had been Daryl.

"Wake up," Daryl's rough voice spoke. "Found a store that looks pretty well abandoned but not completely trashed."

Glenn pulled himself up out of the awkward slump his body had been in and peered out the windshield. In front of the truck was a small grocery store. It didn't look like too many people had looted it. Most of the windows were even still intact.

As he glanced around the car park, Glenn took note of the fact that there were no other vehicles in the lot. Daryl was pretty good at finding fully abandoned properties that were even devoid of the dead. Of course, the lack of cars didn't guarantee the shop was truly abandoned. Walkers didn't seem to be in the habit of driving cars. Even other survivors might be on foot.

Judging by the position of the sun, Glenn guessed it was probably about noon by now. That meant he had been sleeping in the truck for quite some time, probably because he had been unable to sleep worth a damn last night. He still felt tired, but he supposed he'd be able to manage.

"Get your bat," Daryl instructed. "We'll stay close to each other and try to make this fast. It looks pretty dead... well, abandoned... but ya can't really say fer sure what's inside."

Glenn nodded and jumped out of the truck. He reached into the back and grabbed his bat. He was surprised Daryl even trusted him with it anymore. If Glenn was in Daryl's shoes, he wouldn't let him lay his hands on a baseball bat... Sure, it wasn't a gun, crossbow, or knife, but the thing could do some pretty serious damage. Daryl must have known that Glenn wouldn't use the bat as a weapon against him. In a way, Glenn wished Daryl would see him as more of a threat, but he supposed he was better off having Daryl trust him. Even though the older man wouldn't take him seriously, at least he'd let Glenn carry a weapon and didn't keep him on too short a leash.

While he was still leaning over the back of the truck, Glenn decided to empty some cans out of his backpack and take that too, just in case they found more useful things than they could carry. Having a bag on hand during scavenging trips was never a bad idea. He swung the bag over one shoulder and held onto the bat with his other hand.

With his crossbow in hand, Daryl led the way into the store. Glenn followed a few paces behind, holding his baseball bat firmly in his hands. The shop's door was locked, but the two men easily found their way inside through a busted out window.

As they walked in, Glenn could hear glass crunching under their feet. He hated that all-too familiar sound. Everything was broken these days. Before the world had ended as they knew it, walking through broken glass would have seemed odd... And entering a store through a window instead of through the door was even stranger. Yet now, it would be strange to not have to deal with such things. These days buildings with all their windows unbroken were rare. Going into a store without having to trek across a floor covered in broken glass would be unusual now.

"Keep alert," Daryl reminded him.

"I know." Glenn rolled his eyes. He'd done this more often than Daryl had. If anyone should be giving out survival tips, it was Glenn. Supply runs were his specialty. "Are we looking for anything in particular?" Glenn asked. He didn't like wandering around aimlessly. He hadn't survived all his scavenging adventures on luck alone. He'd been smart about it - he'd gotten in and out, quickly and quietly.

Daryl shrugged. "Just pick up whatever you want to eat," he responded. "An' if ya see anything useful, pick that up too. It's not like we're on any sorta schedule."

"Well, we kind of are..." Glenn frowned. "We've got a deadline... We just don't know when it is. So the sooner we get out of here, the better."

"I don't see or hear anything to worry about." Daryl glanced over his shoulder. "An' if I do, I'll shoot it between the eyes an' we'll keep goin.'"

Glenn sighed and tightened his grip on his bat as they walked further into the building. They were lucky the store had so many windows. Otherwise they wouldn't have been able to see anything. As it were, the store was dim in the back, and Glenn was very reluctant to make his way to the furthest aisles.

"Shhh-" Daryl stopped in his tracks. "Listen," he whispered.

Glenn did as Daryl suggested. It sounded like someone or something was walking around on the other side of the shop. The store wasn't huge, but it wasn't tiny either. There were lots of places for walkers, or other survivors to hide. Glenn hoped they'd find other survivors. As long as they weren't psychopaths, survivors were pretty exciting people to meet. And no matter who they found, as long as they were living, they probably couldn't be much worse than Daryl. Glenn welcomed another living soul to join their duo. Maybe then Daryl would let Glenn take the new person back to the group. Then not only would their group have a new member, but Glenn wouldn't have to fear for his life anymore. Daryl probably wouldn't be so mean if another person was there... But then, he certainly wasn't afraid to be mean back at camp, and there were lots of people there...

Without saying another word, Daryl waved his hand, gesturing for Glenn to follow him. They tip-toed slowly and silently across the floor, glancing briefly down each aisle they passed as they moved toward the unseen presence on the other side of the store.

When the two men finally neared the sound, Glenn wanted nothing more than to turn around and head in the opposite direction. By this point, he was fairly certain it was not another survivor they had stumbled upon. The sound wasn't footsteps or whispers... It was the sound of something heavy being dragged across the floor, and of something eating, and with no manners at all.

If Glenn had been there alone, he'd have grabbed some supplies and gotten out of there in a heartbeat. He felt no need to bother witnessing whatever was happening on the other side of the shelving. But Daryl obviously had other plans. He wasn't like Glenn - he didn't put forth as much effort to avoid the walkers. Sometimes he even seemed to go out of his way to track them down and kill them. Glenn supposed there was logic in that. Letting one 'live' might come back to bite you, literally.

He followed Daryl around the corner, where sure enough, a walker was stooped over a half-eaten person. There was a lot of blood pooled and smeared across the floor. Glenn wondered how long the walker's victim had been dead. There was certainly a lot of blood, and it wasn't just pooled around the body. It was smudged everywhere... All over the floor, up on some of the shelves... Its victim had probably struggled for some time.

Before the walker even had a chance to see them, Daryl shot it through its skull. It landed harshly on top of the half-eaten person it had been leaning over.

Glenn stood a few paces away and watched as Daryl walked over to the corpse and kicked it off its victim. He pulled his arrow out of the geek's head and then looked down at the poor soul who had fallen victim to the walking corpse's hunger. Glenn took a moment to look at the person as well.

It was a woman, with short, dark hair and dark skin. She was wearing a tank top which used to be white, but was now stained with what was most certainly her own blood. In fact, there was much more red on the shirt than white, especially near its collar, where it was simply soaked in the dark red liquid. It looked like the geek had been chewing on her neck at some point. Glenn looked her over some more. Her left arm was covered in bite marks to the point where it looked absolutely mangled. If she had still been alive and had tried to lift her arm, Glenn wondered if it wouldn't have fallen apart. Her legs were both quite chewed up as well. It looked like she'd been wearing pajama pants, or maybe sweatpants. But the clothing was so mangled Glenn couldn't really say for sure.

The woman didn't look very old. She had probably been a teenager or a young adult. Glenn frowned. He wondered if she belonged to a survivor group somewhere nearby. Maybe she had taken on a role similar to Glenn's. Maybe she had been gathering supplies and had been caught off-guard. This young woman could have just as easily been Glenn. In fact, he almost felt like he was looking at his own likely future when he stared down at her broken, lifeless body.

It made him feel sad that he'd never know her story. Maybe she had been surviving on her own all this time. Maybe she was even more self-sufficient than Daryl and had just been unlucky... It didn't really matter how smart or fast you were when you could be cheated out of life so easily. One wrong move, and you were a goner.

"Do you think she's been dead long?" Glenn heard himself asking. He hadn't meant to say it out loud. How would Daryl possibly know? Glenn had just been wondering about it and had accidentally voiced his thoughts.

"Couldn't a' been too long." Daryl shrugged. "Or else she'd be back up by now."

Glenn frowned. That was true. She'd clearly been bitten... over and over again. She'd be coming back soon... But not as a person. The next time she opened her eyes, she'd be a monster.

"I guess we should get going then," Glenn suggested. "Wouldn't want to still be around when she comes back..." He continued staring down at the woman's face. Glenn wondered if she had been friendly. Maybe she had been funny... Or really smart... She could have been an artist, or musician... It didn't matter much now.

Glenn winced as an arrow whizzed downward and pierced her skull. A small trickle of blood pooled up from the arrow's point of entry and ran sluggishly passed her eyebrow and down the side of her face.

Daryl stepped lightly on her forehead for leverage and grabbed his arrow, pulling it up and out of her head and putting it back in place on his crossbow. "Won't have to worry about her now," he commented.

"She's still a person, Daryl." Glenn frowned. "She was someone's daughter. Maybe someone's sister or wife... Someone's best friend..."

"What did'ya want me to do?" Daryl raised his eyebrow as he stared in Glenn's direction. "Set up camp here? Wait for her to get up an' kiss her on the forehead first? You know jus' as well as I do what she was gonna turn into. It was either shoot her now, or prolong the inevitable. 'Least this way she didn't have ta ever be one of them. She died once. Which is how it should be."

Still frowning, Glenn stared at the older man. He had a point. It wouldn't have done any good for them to wait and let her turn into a walker. But Daryl didn't have to shoot her in the middle of the forehead without warning or step on her like that. Sure, getting the arrow back was easiest with proper leverage, which Daryl easily achieved by planting his foot right on her forehead... But it seemed so disrespectful. If it had been Merle who had been killed, Daryl wouldn't have treated his corpse like that... But he supposed there was no point arguing. The poor girl was dead either way.

"Let's just hurry up and get out of here," Glenn changed the subject.

Now that they'd encountered a walker, even though it hadn't been much of a threat, Daryl seemed to be in more of a hurry. Glenn led the way this time, and Daryl kept up right behind him. At this point, Glenn didn't care if Daryl wanted to take his time or not. He was going to lead this little expedition, and he was going to get it done fast, just like he usually did. Fortunately, Daryl didn't seem to object.

Glenn was surprised at how much stuff was still left on the shelves. Sure, there were some items that were completely cleared out, and in some places things were scattered all over the floor, but there were actually still quite a lot of useful items left behind by everyone else.

Pulling his backpack off his shoulder and in front of himself, Glenn opened it and stuffed some fruit cups inside. He was happy to find there were a lot of different varieties still left on the shelves. He took a four-pack of each kind that was left: pineapple, mandarin oranges, and peaches.

"Holy shit!" He heard a gasp from behind him.

"What?" Glenn hissed as he spun around. He hoped it was nothing too serious. He hadn't heard any signs of any more walkers. He looked at Daryl, who was just standing in the aisle staring at one of the shelves. "What, Daryl?" Glenn urged. "What's wrong?"

Daryl glanced over at him, but he didn't look worried or upset. He was actually grinning like a child in a candy store. "Pringles!" He gestured toward the shelf. "Get your ass over here. We're loading up on these. Not every day you find Pringles..."

Glenn narrowed his eyes. He wanted to laugh, but Daryl wasn't laughing. In fact, he seemed pretty serious. He wasn't joking. "We're not taking all of them..." Glenn hoped out loud.

"Why not?" Daryl shrugged as he started piling them into his arms. "Barbecue..." He nodded his head in approval and grabbed up a few more cans. "Put some of these in yer bag."

"Are you sure you just want a bunch of junk food?" Glenn frowned. "Maybe we should just get a couple... We can't live off Pringles..."

"Come on, man," Daryl laughed. "We got plenty of canned food, and we can find more at any of these stores... We might never find Pringles again... These could be the last Pringles in the whole damn world. Besides, once I got you out of my hair, I'ma start huntin' again, so it don't much matter what else I have stocked up."

Glenn sighed. Hopefully Daryl was telling the truth and he'd be able to go back to the rest of the group soon. "When are you going to let me go back?" he asked. It was an awkward question to ask, but he supposed now as as good a time as any to ask it.

Daryl shrugged. "Maybe tomorrow or the next day. I don't feel like we've made much progress gettin' away from camp... We've been goin' too slow. Maybe we'll stop dickin' around and get further tomorrow. Then we can think about splitting the two of us up. But we gotta find ya a good car first anyway."

He supposed that didn't sound too bad... As long as Daryl kept his word. Although he did dread the long drive back all alone... He would have to stop for gas several times, and would likely have to either camp somewhere, or drive through the night. And he didn't want to have to refuel in the middle of the night. Doing so even in the daylight was dangerous. He wasn't going to do it when he could barely see.

"We need anything else?" Daryl asked, glancing around himself. He must have had somewhere near ten cans of Pringles tucked under his arm... And he'd forced Glenn to carry about ten more, most of which were in his backpack.

Glenn shook his head. "Nothing I can think of... We can't carry much more anyway..."

Daryl led the way back to the truck. "Just put those Pringles in the front with us. They're too light... Don't want 'em flyin' out the back of the truck."

"All of them?" Glenn wondered.

"Yep."

"You want literally, all of them up front? We've got probably twenty cans..." Glenn frowned.

"Shut up... They ain't that big. The truck seats three if it has to. Just put 'em in the middle," Daryl sighed. "Damn..."

Glenn narrowed his eyes in annoyance, but did as Daryl asked. As he climbed into the truck, he couldn't forget about the girl they'd found in the shop. "Daryl-" Glenn looked over at the older man as he climbed into the truck.

"What?" Daryl stared at him.

"That girl in the shop couldn't have been dead long," Glenn commented. "What if she's part of a group of survivors nearby?"

Daryl sighed. "So what if she was?"

"Well..." Glenn hesitated. He realized Daryl didn't give a shit about anyone, especially not about people he didn't know, but Glenn did. "Maybe they could use our help... What if she had little kids or old people with her? What if she was the only one in her group who could go out and get supplies?"

"Well, then she shoulda been more careful," Daryl scoffed.

Glenn shook his head. "Can't we just look around? You wouldn't want people to just keep going if it was you who was in trouble..."

"First of all-" Daryl glared at him. "I ain't never gonna be in trouble. I ain't stupid. I can take care of myself. An' second of all... Do you not remember that I just left a big group of dumb ass survivors? You realize I left 'cause I don't like people, right? Last thing I need to ta find even more needy mother fuckers to drag around with me."

For a moment, Glenn wasn't sure what to do. He was so tired of Daryl acting like this. It was in Glenn's nature to help people who needed him to. He couldn't understand Daryl feeling okay with himself leaving the vulnerable on their own. "You know your opinion isn't the only one that counts." He scowled at the older man.

"It counts more when I'm the one with the gun." Daryl raised his eyebrow.

"Not when you don't have the bullets." Glenn reached down, snatched the glove box open and grasped the clip Daryl had handed him earlier. He proceeded to open the truck's door and jumped out onto the pavement. "I'm staying here to look for more survivors," Glenn informed him as he stuffed the gun's clip into his front jeans pocket. He kept his voice strong, but on the inside he was scared. Maybe Daryl didn't have bullets in his gun, but he still had his crossbow, and Glenn knew how good he was with it.

"Yer gonna get yourself killed, ya damn idiot." Daryl frowned. "Get back in the truck."

Glenn shook his head. "No," he refused. The further Daryl took him, the more likely Glenn wasn't going to make it all the way back to camp without being killed. He didn't want to get any further from camp than he already was, and if there were other survivors in the area and they needed help, Glenn felt it was his duty as a human being to try to offer them the assistance they needed.

Daryl sighed loudly. He looked and sounded frustrated. "Damn it," he huffed. "This town ain't that big. An' there's barely any walkers... We been here fer how long? An' we only saw one. If there was other people with that girl, they'd have gone with her to the store. She prolly ended up dead because she was all alone, was young, and was stupid. No one's waitin' on her to come back, because her family an' friends prolly all died weeks ago. Now get in the god damned truck before I have to drag yer ass in here myself."

"No," Glenn persisted. "I'm done letting you drag me around where I don't want to go. No one's following you. You don't need me here anymore, and I still think you never did. Rick and the others aren't vengeful... They don't care that you took a couple jugs of water and a gas can. So I'm done. I'm out."

Daryl sighed again and opened the driver's side door. "I promised Rick I'd make sure you got back to them safe. An' if I leave you here, you'll end up dead. Get in the fucking truck, or things are gonna get ugly."

"I'm an adult, Daryl, just like you." Glenn frowned as he tried to keep his voice calm. "I can take care of myself just as well as you can. I've traveled into the city for supplies over and over, and I always made it back. And when the world was going to hell, I made it out without anyone helping me. I didn't even have a brother like you did. I'm more than capable of getting myself back to camp."

Daryl didn't say anything in response. Instead, he just stared at Glenn as though the younger man had insulted him. He remained silent as he started making his way around the front of the truck. The older man had likely had enough of Glenn's arguing. He was probably planning on making this incident a near repeat of the last time Glenn had defied him. But Glenn wasn't going to wait until Daryl was close enough to grab him this time. Not again. Instead, the younger man did the only thing he could think of. He turned and ran...

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	6. Chapter 6

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Chapter 6

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Daryl was so pissed. When he'd first taken Glenn with him away from their camp, he had felt really good about his choice of hostage. Glenn seemed just scared enough of him that he would easily comply with whatever Daryl wanted, and for a while, he followed Daryl's orders very well... But the kid seemed to have finally grown a pair, because after only one day of being away from the others, he had decided to defy his captor every chance he got... Daryl had threatened to kill him more than once, yet Glenn continued to be defiant. He didn't seem to have that healthy fear anymore... Right about now Daryl was really wishing he'd taken Amy with him instead.

Each and every time Daryl had felt like Glenn was starting to go with the flow, he'd turn around and do something stupid. So now here they were, chasing after phantoms - looking for survivors who probably didn't even exist... And for what? Did Glenn expect him to invite any survivors they encountered to come with them? Because Daryl sure as fuck wasn't going to. He didn't drive all this way just to have to join up with another group of misfits. He'd left the previous group for a reason.

To make matters worse, Daryl hadn't even had time to grab his crossbow, or even his knife before he was forced to run off in pursuit of his young companion. He hadn't expected Glenn to start running, and when he did, Daryl didn't have time to think about being practical. Instead of grabbing his weapon, he had just started chasing after the kid. And now neither of them had a weapon... except the gun... Which Daryl had half of, and Glenn had the other. It certainly wouldn't do either of them any good like that. Daryl hoped Glenn didn't run into any walkers as he sprinted ahead, because the kid wouldn't have any defense against them.

Daryl was confident he'd catch up with the boy eventually. Daryl wasn't one to become tired easily, but the Asian sure was fast... That explained why they kept sending him on supply runs, and why he always managed to come back alive.

As he ran, Daryl didn't bother using words to try to convince the kid to come back to the truck. The more he talked, the more out of breath he'd be, and the less-likely he'd be able to catch up with Glenn. He also knew the boy wasn't going to change his mind now. He probably was well aware of how pissed off Daryl was. He had to know that Daryl catching him, or even Glenn coming back on his own wasn't going to be pleasant for the younger of the two.

The only sound to be heard as Daryl chased Glenn down various streets and alleys was the thudding of their shoes on pavement, and each of their heavy breathing. As he slowly started gaining on the kid, Daryl glanced around himself. The last thing they needed was to run into a walker, or worse yet - a group of walkers. Just because they were caught up in fighting with each other didn't mean they should stop paying attention to their surroundings.

He knew there had to be walkers in this town. Where there was one, there were bound to be more. He just wondered where they all were. Maybe there was a house full of physically disabled people and the undead were busy having an all-you-can-eat lunch buffet there... Or maybe they'd just horded up somewhere nearby, stumbling around aimlessly as a mass, waiting until they ran into something alive... No matter what they were up to, they had to be around here somewhere...

As he neared Glenn, Daryl contemplated how exactly he was going to catch him. Should he just reach out and grab him? Would Glenn shrug him off and keep running? Maybe it would be best for Daryl to just tackle him to the ground. Maybe it would be more painful for both of them, but at least that way the older man would be more in control. But in order to tackle the kid, Daryl would need to be almost neck and neck with him.

So he continued running, waiting until he was close enough to touch the boy before putting every ounce of energy he had into a full on sprint. He could see Glenn glancing over his shoulder as he likely heard how close his pursuer had become. He even swore he heard a bit of a panicked whimper from the kid before he turned back around and continued running, seemingly as fast as he possibly could. Glenn knew he was in trouble now, yet the boy persisted. He kept running, seemingly putting every ounce of energy he possessed into keeping ahead of Daryl and out of his grasp. But Daryl was putting all of his energy into catching him...

It wasn't long before Daryl was confident he was close enough to be successful in taking the boy down. In one swift movement, he leaped forward, reached out both of his arms, and wrapped them around Glenn's torso, like a large cat capturing its prey, as he pulled the kid rather roughly straight into the the hard asphalt of the street they had been running on.

Glenn cried out in what was likely panic, and possibly pain as Daryl tackled him to the ground. Daryl pushed the boy down as he struggled to get back up. They ended up with Glenn on his back and Daryl sort of straddling him, just like before.

But Glenn wasn't as compliant when Daryl didn't have a knife or a gun to threaten his life with. Instead of the boy holding still, squeezing his eyes shut, and pleading for mercy like last time, he fought, and he fought hard. Daryl actually had to put a lot of effort into physically subduing the kid.

"Let go of me!" Glenn nearly screamed as he struggled to wriggle out of Daryl's grasp.

"Stop fightin' with me," Daryl growled between panting breaths as he tried to get a good grip on Glenn's flailing arms. They'd run pretty hard and were both quite out of breath. "Just 'cause you feel some misplaced duty to help people who might not even exist don't mean I gotta let you get yerself killed doin' it. I ain't tryin' ta be a bully here. I'm keepin' you from doin' somethin' stupid."

"It's not up to you!" Glenn groaned as he put his hands on Daryl's chest and attempted to push him away. The boy's arms shook as he shoved the older man. He whimpered in frustration when Daryl didn't budge. "Why do you care what I do anyway? So what if I chase some hope of finding survivors and end up dead because of it? You don't care if I get myself killed... I'm just your hostage, and you don't need me with you anymore. No one's coming after you. If I get killed now, it's my own fault. You wanted to be alone anyway. Just go!"

"No," Daryl persisted. He had promised the others he'd send Glenn back alive, and even though he didn't really care about those people, for some reason he still felt like he needed to keep that promise. Glenn could get annoying sometimes, but he wasn't as bad as most of the others... Daryl didn't want him to die... And for some reason unknown to him, Daryl wasn't even really sure he wanted to part with the kid just yet. Glenn wasn't really that bad of a road trip companion, and was pretty handy to have around... He could take care of himself when he wasn't being stupid and was good at collecting things they needed. He also didn't eat much, so Daryl didn't have to worry about his supplies running out because of the boy.

"Daryl, get off me!" Glenn whined, but Daryl wouldn't relent. Just because he hadn't managed to get a grip on the boy's arms didn't erase the fact that Daryl was practically sitting on the kid. Glenn's hands were free, but his body wasn't. As long as Daryl was here, Glenn wasn't going anywhere.

Ignoring the kid's pleas, Daryl frowned down at him. He really didn't like having to force Glenn to come along with him. He had hoped the boy would just go along with him a little more. Why was he being so difficult? Why did he care so much about people he didn't know, and who might not even exist? He was risking his life - quite possibly for nothing.

Glenn was breathing hard as he stared up into Daryl's eyes. He didn't look as scared as he had before. He just looked pissed. It was actually kind of interesting to see that look on the kid. Fear and worry were emotions he saw in Glenn's eyes quite often, but hardly ever did he see actual anger. Much to Daryl's surprise, the boy proceeded to ball his hand into a fist, and swung right at Daryl's face, hitting him hard across the cheek - maybe not as hard as he could, but hard enough to hurt.

When the kid's fist connected with his cheek, Daryl's first instinct was to punch Glenn right back, as hard as he could. Daryl even balled his hand into a fist and raised it up, fully ready to swing down and hit Glenn harder than anyone had ever hit him in his life.

But instead of letting his anger control his actions, Daryl let himself think for just a moment. Glenn was staring at him with wide eyes, as if he was shocked at what his own hand had just done. Maybe the boy had some bit of blind rage in him too, just like Daryl had - rage that caused him to act before he had time to think. His lower lip trembled slightly as though he wanted to say something, yet couldn't figure out what it was, but he looked like he was ready to plead for his life.

Instead of punching the kid's lights out, Daryl took advantage of the fact Glenn seemed completely stunned. He grabbed both of the boy's wrists and slammed them down against the pavement over the Glenn's head. The position they were in now was quite similar to how they'd been that morning at the motel, but things were going to work out differently this time...

Daryl stared down at the wide-eyed boy beneath him. Glenn couldn't seem to find any words. He looked scared and was seemingly trying with all his might to pull his arms away from Daryl's grasp. But Daryl was stronger; Glenn wasn't going to be freeing himself any time soon. Daryl was in full control again - just the way he liked it.

"You knee me in the crotch again, and I will seriously fucking kill you," Daryl threatened with a bit of a growl in his voice. "No. Fucking. Joke. I'll string you up to a god damned tree and beat you to death like a piñata... With yer own fuckin' baseball bat."

Glenn's eyes widened even more, but he didn't say anything. He must have sensed how angry Daryl was, and must have known that speaking - saying anything at all - might just be enough to push the man over the edge. Instead of defending himself, he just stared up at Daryl as he continued breathing heavily and attempting with futility to pull his arms free of Daryl's grasp.

"Now, we're goin' back to the fucking truck," Daryl informed him. "An' yer gonna stop doin' stupid shit like this."

Daryl wasn't sure if Glenn had agreed to his conditions, but the boy certainly hadn't objected either. It didn't matter much anyway. Daryl could always force him to comply if he needed to. While he wouldn't prefer that method, he was certainly capable of it. But just as he was preparing to stand up, he heard an unfamiliar voice from somewhere behind him.

"On your feet," an unseen person ordered. "Both of you. Slowly. And don't try anything... I've got a gun on you, and two other guys... Also with guns."

Daryl breathed out a loud, frustrated breath as he stood up and turned toward the sound of the person's voice. It was a man, maybe in his late thirties. He was standing on a small balcony of a two-story building and he had a shotgun in his hands, aimed right at Daryl. "We were just leavin," Daryl offered as he raised his hands up defensively.

Glenn stood up beside him, but remained completely silent.

"No you aren't," the man informed him. "Paul, Jim, search them," he ordered.

Daryl frowned as he continued staring at the man. "Aww, come on," he moaned. "We don't want nothin' from you. We were just passin' through."

"Get up against the wall right there," one of the man's friends ordered as he stepped out of an alley. These guys must have been hiding, watching Glenn and Daryl this whole time. Daryl wondered what they thought about all that they'd seen. He felt stupid for not being more careful and not noticing these men sooner...

"Both of you," the third man ordered.

Daryl narrowed his eyes as he watched the two men stepping cautiously toward him and Glenn. The one closest to him was tall and skinny. He had pale skin and short dark hair. He was probably around Daryl's age. The one approaching Glenn was slightly shorter than the other, maybe by just an inch or two. He was more muscular, with tanner skin, and looked to be slighter older than the other man. They each had guns. If Daryl could wrestle the gun away from the man approaching him, he might be able to turn things around. But of course, there was still the first man up on the balcony. He had a gun as well. And of course the second man on the ground also had one. He and Glenn were outnumbered. For now, it would probably be best to not fight these guys.

"I said up against the wall," the shorter man barked again. "Hands up, legs apart... Like you'd do if you were being arrested. You probably know all about that," he laughed as he nodded toward Daryl.

Daryl scowled at him, but complied. He didn't know these people well enough to test their patience. As he turned and walked toward the wall, he glanced over toward Glenn, who had already made his way over to the side of the building. He had put his hands up and did exactly what the men had ordered, but apparently it wasn't good enough.

The man in charge of Glenn put his hand on the boy's back and pushed him roughly against the wall as he kicked Glenn's legs further apart. Glenn winced as he made eye-contact with Daryl. He looked scared and uncertain. "We don't have any weapons," Glenn promised in a panicked voice.

As much as Daryl hated the idea of letting these men search him for weapons, he knew he was in no position to fight them just yet. So he put his hands up against the wall and placed his feet a shoulder-width apart. The man searching Daryl didn't seem as rough as the one searching Glenn. Fighting his instincts, Daryl held still and kept his eyes on Glenn as the men patted them both down.

The man behind Glenn patted down the boy's sides, and then his chest. Then he moved down to his legs, pausing for a moment when he reached the kid's front pockets. "No weapons, eh?" the man laughed as he pulled the gun clip out of Glenn's pocket. "What's this?"

"Oh... that..." Glenn breathed out. He wasn't very good at hiding his fear. "Well... It's just bullets... I can't do any harm with a gun clip and no gun..."

Daryl closed his eyes in frustration when he remembered he himself possessed the gun, and the man searching him would find it in no time. He hoped these guys were just being overly careful and weren't going to kill them. The end of the world seemed to bring out both the best and the worst in people. Some, like Glenn, were too nice. They'd risk their own lives to help complete strangers. While others took the opportunity given by there no longer being laws to carry out all sorts of sick fantasies their fear of the judicial system had never allowed before.

"Got the gun over here," the man behind Daryl called up to his companion. "No clip in it... What the fuck were you guys doing?" he wondered. "Why separate your weapon and ammo...?"

"Come on. Let's take them back," the man on the balcony ordered as he disappeared into the building. Daryl felt the man behind him pull him back away from the wall by his arm and saw the one behind Glenn do the same.

"I can walk by myself," Daryl growled as he shrugged out of the man's grasp. "You three got the guns. I won't run off. I ain't stupid."

"Fine," the man agreed as his friend emerged from the ground floor door of the building he'd been inside.

The guy by Glenn held onto both the boy's arms as the five of them started walking down the deserted street. Glenn didn't seem to be trying to get away. Daryl wondered if this meant he was more afraid of this man than he was of Daryl, or if it was the other way around. Was he too scared to fight right now? Or when Daryl had grabbed him, was he so scared he felt fighting was his only chance?

"You must think we're incredibly rude," the man with the shotgun commented as he led the way. "There's no reason why we can't all introduce ourselves. I'm Alex. And that's Paul." He gestured toward the man walking next to Daryl. "And Jim." He nodded toward the man holding Glenn.

Daryl stared at him. He didn't care what the fuck these guys' names were. It didn't matter much to him, because he knew there were three options of what was going to happen next. 1. The men would let Daryl and Glenn go. 2. The men would kill Daryl and Glenn. Or 3. Daryl would kill all three of the men and he and Glenn would get out of here afterward. No matter which of those three things happened, names didn't matter.

"We found a girl in the shop," Glenn spoke up. His voice was a bit shaky as though he was nervous... And no doubt he was. "She looked like she was maybe around eighteen years old... That's just my best guess... She could have been in her twenties... or younger than eighteen; I don't know... But she was dead... She had dark hair, dark skin... Was she part of your group?"

"We don't really have what I'd call a group," Alex shrugged. "It's just us three. I don't know of any girls living around here."

"Shame though. Eighteen? That could have been fun," Jim commented with a slight chuckle.

Daryl noticed Glenn become more tense as the man holding onto him said that. "You know she was young enough to probably be your daughter," Daryl commented, narrowing his eyes in disgust.

"Don't mind Jim," Alex laughed. "He's never been socially acceptable."

"Where the fuck we goin?" Daryl finally asked. He'd had enough with this small talk, and was way past done with these people. Alex seemed like some sort of evil cult leader in his mannerisms. Jim seemed like some sort of rapist pedophile... He wanted nothing to do with these people.

"Oh, it's great, where we're going." Alex grinned. "This town never was that big, so setting up camp here was easy. Not many zombies to clear out... I mean, sure, we can't keep them all out for good, but as long as it's just the three of us and we aren't really loud, there's never more than just a few making their way through town. As long as they think no one's here, they just keep moving."

Daryl glared at him. "Ya didn't really answer the question," he complained. "Where we goin?"

Alex grinned. "I was getting around to that... There's this hospital - a mental hospital... When the zombie outbreak started, the staff just left it there. And since all the patients are crazy or retarded, none of their families even cared enough to come get them... That, or their families were too dead to do so... At any rate, we moved in. There's all sorts of drugs there, food in their cafeteria, more beds than we need..."

"What did you do with the patients?" Glenn wondered. "Or... were they dead when you got there?" He frowned.

"Yeah..." Jim nodded. "They were all dead when we got there."

Daryl wasn't sure he believed that. Something about the way Jim said it didn't sound like he was telling the truth. But there wasn't much he could do just yet. He wasn't sure what these men's intentions were, but he certainly hoped they weren't as sinister as they seemed...

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	7. Chapter 7

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Chapter 7

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Glenn had a strong feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach as he allowed himself to be guided up the steps of what seemed like the largest building in the small town. It was only three stories high, but the town didn't have much in the way of architecture. It was mostly just houses and small one-story shops, so this building sort of stood out among them.

The man holding onto him, Jim, had his fingers wrapped rather tightly around Glenn's arms. Even though Glenn would have liked to wriggle out of the man's grasp, he was too scared to do so. All three of the men they'd just met had guns, and this man in particular seemed a little crazy; Glenn didn't want to set him off. He supposed having his arms squeezed uncomfortably was better than being shot.

As they entered the building, Glenn glanced over at Daryl. The older man didn't seem very comfortable about this situation either, but he hadn't made any move to run away or fight these guys. If either of them was good at timing when was the right moment to act, it would probably be Daryl. Glenn thought so anyway... So for now, he just allowed these men to drag him along and hoped Daryl might have a plan when the time came.

They were led up some stairs and into a large room with lots of beds. It looked like one of those rooms in a hospital where patients would be placed if all the private rooms were full. There were probably twenty beds along the walls, ten on each side. Each one of them was empty, but the sheets on many of them were positioned in disheveled heaps. Maybe this was where the three men slept every night, and they just slept in whatever bed they felt like without ever fixing it back up afterward. Or maybe patients had slept here and no one had tidied up once those people died.

If it wasn't for the large window at the end of the room, they wouldn't have been able to see a thing in the room, but since it was still near mid-day, the sun shone in brightly. The room looked almost like it would if the building still had electricity.

Glenn was incredibly relieved when Jim finally let go of him. He looked over at Daryl who was turned toward the three men, staring them down. Glenn took a few steps toward the older man and faced the others as well. As nervous as he felt around Daryl, he would still rather stand next to him than over by the three questionable men they'd only just met.

"Why'd you bring us here?" Glenn finally asked, quite afraid of what their answer might be. These guys hadn't even invited them back. They'd demanded it, and had marched them down the road with their guns still drawn. This didn't look good for Daryl and Glenn.

"Why don't you boys have a seat?" Alex offered as he moved his arm to gesture toward the beds along the walls. He still had his shotgun in his other hand, but at least he wasn't pointing it at them anymore. "There's plenty of nice beds here, and I assure you the building is completely safe and secure. You can see all the windows are barred... They make these places especially so that people can't get out, so nothing can get in either."

Glenn frowned and looked over at Daryl, who hadn't budged. If Daryl wasn't sitting, neither would Glenn. He looked over at the three strangers as Jim walked out of the room. Now it was just Alex and Paul standing before them. They both kept their weapons in hand as they stared at their captive audience.

"Do you know what the nice thing about the zombie apocalypse is?" Alex started.

Glenn stared at him. He didn't really find anything 'nice' about it... Daryl didn't respond either. Maybe the question had been rhetorical.

"You can do whatever you want," Alex answered himself. "It's kind of funny, really. I can do whatever I want. You guys can do whatever you want... There's no one around to enforce any laws... So it's pretty much this: Whoever has the biggest gun, or the most people on their side gets to call the shots."

"Well, we're gonna do what we want then, an' get outta here." Daryl grabbed Glenn's arm and took a step toward the door.

"Not so fast, guys." Alex raised his gun up so that it was pointing right at Daryl's chest. "You only just got here... It would be a shame if you died now..."

Daryl was somewhat in front of Glenn now, standing between the younger man and Alex and Paul. Glenn almost wanted to hide behind him even more. What was he supposed to do? Whatever Alex and his friends were planning didn't sound like something Glenn wanted to be a part of.

He was fully aware that some people in this new lawless world they lived in were rather unpleasant and were perfectly willing to take advantage of the situation. These guys really could do whatever they wanted. They could kill Daryl and Glenn right here, right now, and there wasn't a damn thing anyone was going to do about it. But why would they have bothered to take them inside? If they just wanted to kill them, they'd have done it... Their plans were something else. For some reason, they wanted Glenn and Daryl alive.

"Listen, man..." Daryl didn't sound at all amused. "You wanna kill us, then just do it already. I'm not interested in talking in circles all night. We got places to be. So let us go, or kill us now."

Glenn felt himself shaking his head slightly and his eyes widening. That didn't sound alright with him. "Just tell us what you want," he stepped in. "We can give you supplies... whatever you want..."

"We don't want your supplies," Jim said as he walked back into the room.

Glenn looked the man over. He was holding two syringes in his hand. When he saw them, Glenn felt his breathing increasing in speed and his chest grow cold. "What are those?" he asked in a small voice.

Jim just shook his head very slightly and shrugged.

"When we first got here," Alex explained, "we had fifteen patients... We had a lot of fun with them, doing experiments, and just messing with them... But a lot of them ended up dying, one way or another. One escaped, but from what you guys said, it looks like she didn't make it far."

Glenn frowned. "I thought you said all the patients were already dead when you got here..." He hoped Alex was just joking. It wouldn't be a very funny joke... but surely they didn't really just perform unnecessary experiments on unwilling mentally ill patients...

Alex laughed. "Just as good as dead. There's a reason their families just forgot about them. Some of them were so crazy, and some so drugged up they didn't even seem to know what was going on. Even when we didn't give them drugs, they acted stoned. I think their brains were fried. I always wanted to be a doctor, but they wouldn't let me back then. Now I can do anything I want... Fifteen free patients. I'd have been stupid to pass up that opportunity."

"Why you tellin' us all this?" Daryl growled. "I don't care what you did to those people..."

"Did you know that a perfectly healthy person can die from being injected with blood from a zombie? I mean... It seems pretty obvious now, but at the beginning we weren't so sure... So we tested the theory out. Takes about five hours to a couple days, depending on the person," Alex continued. "But don't worry... We won't do that to you guys. From what I see, you two don't seem so mentally fucked. We won't waste you with something so unsatisfying."

Daryl shook his head. "Come on, Glenn." He grabbed Glenn's wrist again. "We're gettin' out of here. Either that or we're dyin' right here, right now. I'm through fuckin' around with these people."

Glenn hesitated. He didn't want to die. But he didn't want to stay here either. Maybe these guys were bluffing. Maybe he and Daryl should try to make a break for it before it was too late... He'd rather die quickly right now than suffer and die slowly later... So he let Daryl drag him toward the door.

Glenn could see that Paul and Alex still had their guns aimed at them, but they weren't firing. They didn't want Daryl and Glenn dead... But Jim still blocked the doorway, and he still held the syringes in his hand. And, of course, Glenn had no idea what the syringes held. He feared he'd soon find out.

Daryl's grip on Glenn's wrist tightened as Jim took a step toward them. They were kind of trapped, and Daryl obviously didn't know how to get around this guy.

"Take it easy, guys..." Jim cooed as though he was trying to coax a wild animal toward him. "There's no need to freak out... We don't want to hurt you... We're just gonna do some harmless experiments on you... If you cooperate, maybe we'll even let you go after a while. We can all have what we want."

Daryl must not have liked the sound of that. Still gripping Glenn, he charged right at Jim, shoving him out of the way and bolting toward the door. But Jim didn't stay out of the way for long. He was on Daryl in no time, grabbing onto him and sticking one of the syringes into the man's arm. He injected whatever he had put into the syringe into Daryl within a millisecond.

Glenn reached out for the syringe, pulling the needle out of Daryl's skin in some effort to help the older man. But he knew it would do no good. He'd been injected already. There was nothing Glenn could do to undo that. He tossed the syringe to the floor and stared wide-eyed up at Jim, who looked like he was contemplating laughter.

For a moment, Daryl remained on his feet. He pulled Glenn back as if in an attempt to shield him from receiving the same fate, but his grip on Glenn's arm quickly began to weaken. He then began to stagger backward.

Breathing rapidly in a state of near panic, Glenn rushed over to Daryl's side, grabbing onto him as the older man backed himself up against the wall. "What was in that?" Glenn cried out as he turned back toward Jim. He then looked back to Daryl whose eyelids were fluttering as he allowed himself to slide down the wall and onto the floor. Glenn followed him down to the floor so that he was sitting on his own feet and lower legs while preventing Daryl from falling against the floor completely.

"Just a sedative." Jim smiled as he walked closer to Glenn. "He'll be fine. You want one too? Or are you going to cooperate?"

Glenn stared up at him. "What do you want me to do?" Glenn asked, hearing his own voice shaking. Daryl seemed to have completely lost consciousness by this point and was slumping over onto his younger companion.

"Get on one of the beds. And I'll strap you in." Jim smiled. "You can even pick which one, if you'd like. I'd suggest one away from the window. The sun can get pretty annoying if you're lying in it all day."

Glenn shook his head. "Please just let us go..." He frowned as he cradled Daryl's head in his lap. He'd never felt so trapped in his life.

"Are you kidding?" Alex spoke up. "How could we pass up two perfect specimens like you guys? You both seem physically and mentally healthy... I couldn't just give that away..."

"And we've never had an Asian patient either," Jim added.

Glenn looked among the men. Jim and Alex both looked excited. He looked over Jim's shoulder at Paul who had been silent this whole time. He just stood near the wall with his gun drawn. All he was doing was observing. He didn't look as excited as his friends. Maybe he wasn't as comfortable with this as they were.

"Please..." Glenn focused now on Paul. Maybe he could be their ticket out of there. "You know this is wrong... No matter if there are laws or not... You can't just experiment on people..."

Paul just stared at him with no expression in his face. It was almost as if Glenn hadn't said anything at all.

"Don't be scared." Alex smiled at him as though he was consoling a child who was afraid to get his booster shots. "We'll be gentle. We're not in the torture business or anything... Just experiments... We even have morphine."

"So..." Jim squatted down in front of him. "What'll it be? You want the sedative? Or are you going to cooperate?"

Glenn hesitated. Maybe he could get out of this if he could manage to disarm these guys and turn the situation around like Daryl had with him. "I'll cooperate," he lied as he carefully lay Daryl's head down against the floor and stood in front of Jim and Alex. They were both taller than him, and between the two of them they were armed with a syringe and a shot gun. Glenn's chance of success was slim, and even if he took these two down, he'd still have to deal with Paul and wait for Daryl to hopefully wake up.

He began making his way toward one of the beds, mostly so he could get himself away from Daryl. He didn't want anyone stepping on him by mistake.

When Glenn made it to the bed, he turned around to see Alex and Jim had followed closely behind him. Without much of a plan in his head, he forced himself into action, reaching out first to Jim's hand and grabbing at the syringe. He wasn't successful in grabbing it away from the man, but he did succeed in knocking it out of his hand, and then proceeded to stomp on it, crushing it and spilling its contents all over the floor. It wasn't what he'd hoped would happen, but it was better than nothing.

He planned on going for Alex next, getting the gun away from him and then using it to get himself and Daryl out of here, but as soon as he turned toward the man, that plan was crushed.

Before Glenn could do anything, Alex punched him hard across his face. The impact of the man's fist was strong enough that Glenn fell back against Jim who grabbed his arms with unmerciful fingers and forced him roughly toward the bed.

Glenn couldn't help but whimper in pain and fear as he struggled to free himself from Jim's strong grasp. "Get off me!" he screamed. He didn't know what else to say, "Please don't!" he cried as he kicked out and tried to wriggle free. He couldn't believe these people felt they had the right to do this.

After just a brief moment, he felt two different pairs of hands on him, actually lifting him off the ground by his arms. Before he could really even fight back, both of the men were holding him down on the bed and fastening restraints around his wrists and ankles. Even as Glenn did his best to thrash his body out of their grasp, he was unsuccessful. The beds in this hospital all seemed to come equipped with restraints. Glenn wondered how many patients had been abused here even before the dead started walking.

As Jim tightened the restraints around his wrists much tighter than seemed necessary, Glenn winced in pain. "You're gonna wish you hadn't wasted my sedative," Jim growled as he pulled the restraint on Glenn's left wrist tight enough that it felt like it was cutting into Glenn's skin. "I can't order more, you know... we only have as much as was left here, and when we run out, you'll regret it... That stuff was for your comfort, not mine. I can still do what I want to do without it. You'll just get to be awake for it now."

Glenn pulled uselessly at his restraints as he stared up at Jim. The leathery cuffs around his wrists were fastened too tightly. Even just moving his arms very slightly hurt him as the leather straps threatened to cut his flesh.

He continued staring at the man, wondering what he was going to do next. But Jim didn't say anything more to him. Instead, he and Alex made their way over to where Daryl had fallen. Glenn tried to sit up as best as he could to see what was happening. He watched as the two men dragged Daryl over to the bed next to Glenn's and strapped his arms and legs down with the leather straps, just like they'd done to Glenn. Only Daryl wasn't fighting with them like Glenn had, as the poor man was still unconscious. Glenn hoped the injection was as harmless as Jim claimed.

After they were satisfied that their two 'patients' were securely restrained, the three men walked out of the room, closing the door behind them without another word to their captives.

Glenn stared at the door after it closed. He then squeezed his eyes shut and tried to control his breathing. He was so scared. In fact, he wasn't sure if he'd ever been this scared before. There were times when he was being chased by walkers and was certain he'd be eaten alive... but even that wasn't as frightening as this. At least those times, he actually knew what to expect... He had no idea what these men's plans for them were. How long would they keep Daryl and Glenn there before they got tired of them and just killed them? Or would they kill them on accident during some warped experiment?

He turned his head so that he was facing Daryl, who was facing him as well, but was still unconscious. His eyes were closed and his body was limp. Glenn felt his own hands clenched into fists, but Daryl's hands looked relaxed. Seeing Daryl so vulnerable only made Glenn more frightened. Daryl usually seemed unstoppable, but was now tied up just like Glenn was. These men could do whatever they wanted to Daryl and Glenn. If even Daryl couldn't get out of this, they were both screwed.

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	8. Chapter 8

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Chapter 8

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Daryl groaned as he felt himself awakening. He had a headache out of this world, and in general, felt like absolute hell. It wasn't until he tried to bring his hand up to his throbbing head that he noticed he could not do so. His wrists were fastened securely with leather restraints, tethering him to the sides of the bed on which he was lying. And it wasn't even a nice bed; it was a shitty hospital bed. He exhaled loudly when he felt his ankles were strapped to the bed as well.

For a moment, Daryl made an attempt to free himself, tugging at the restraints, rotating his wrists, moving them from side to side and up and down, and finally giving up when the leather bands neither loosened nor made any hint at tearing.

Exhaling with frustration, Daryl let his arms lie limply at his sides and looked around himself to survey the situation. It didn't take him long to remember where he was and some of what had happened. He was in the same room Alex had taken them to earlier - the room with all the beds, but Alex, Jim, and Paul were no longer there. He remembered trying to escape, and he remembered being stabbed in the arm with a syringe and injected with something. He glanced down at that arm. A small smudge of blood and a tiny bruise marked him where he'd been injected. After that had happened, he remembered Glenn's frightened expression, and nothing much more.

He glanced over to his right. On the bed next to him lay the Asian kid. Glenn seemed to be asleep. His head was turned to the side so that he was facing toward Daryl, but his eyes were closed. The boy's wrists and ankles were secured in the same manner as Daryl's. Glenn's hair hung over his forehead, resting on his eye lids and his facial expression looked pained, stressed, and scared. Even with all that emotion in his features, the boy still appeared to be sleeping.

"Hey," Daryl called over to him in a whisper.

He watched as Glenn jerked awake at the sound of the other man's voice. For a brief moment Glenn's eyes were panicked as he fought with his restraints, but he quickly gave up the useless struggle, wincing as he stilled himself. Daryl watched as the kid looked around the room for a moment before his tired eyes settled on the older man.

"Daryl?" Glenn whispered as he stared over at his companion. The kid's eyebrows were knitted with worry and he was frowning. It was a look he wore a lot, even when there wasn't much to worry about. His expression matched this situation this time though. "Are you okay?" he added.

"I'm fine," Daryl assured him. "Are you? What did they do after they knocked me out? They inject you too?"

Glenn shook his head. "I tried to escape... I knocked the syringe out of his hand and broke it..."

Daryl grimaced. He could imagine Glenn trying to fight off three men all on his own, and it didn't sound like a pretty picture, especially considering those three men were armed. Glenn was lucky he hadn't gotten himself killed. "They hurt you?" he wondered as he let his eyes wander down to Glenn's wrist. His restraint looked like it was fastened too tight, and Daryl could swear he saw a bit of blood around the boy's wrist and on the leather strap fastened securely around it.

"Not really," Glenn whispered. He hesitated. "What are we gonna do?" His wide eyes stared at Daryl as if he was waiting for some wise insight from the older man, as if he was completely counting on Daryl to come up with some grand plan to fix all this.

Daryl frowned. "You think I have all the answers? How the fuck should I know?" Daryl couldn't help but to take out his frustration on the boy. He regretted it immediately though, as Glenn didn't have the fire in his eyes he normally had when Daryl yelled at him. Instead scowling, rolling his eyes, saying something in his own defense, or even just shrugging Daryl's anger off and looking away, Glenn just continued staring at him with wide eyes. He looked so scared.

Glenn shrugged. "I don't know..." he said in a small, shaking voice. Daryl could see that he was breathing kind of hard. His eyes were huge and he still looked quite panicked. Daryl hadn't grown up in a cushy home like Glenn probably had. He was used to getting himself into trouble and having to deal with people messing with him. Of course, he felt rather panicked about their current situation too, but he hadn't given up hope yet. He was smart. He'd get them out of this somehow. There was no need to hyper-ventilate just yet.

"We're smarter than they are," Daryl promised him. He wasn't usually one for giving inspirational speeches, but Glenn looked like he really needed one right about now. "You and me made it this far... We'll find a way out of this. Got it?"

Glenn nodded, but he didn't look very confident.

"I mean it." Daryl frowned."Don't you go givin' up on me. You didn't stay alive all this time by being scared and givin' up on yerself. You've kept yourself alive because you knew you were smart. An' you still are. Don't let these guys scare you into giving in to them. You got this under control. Might not look like it right now, but you got this."

"Okay," Glenn whispered.

"An' listen... If you get a chance to get yerself out of here, do it," Daryl ordered. "I don't want you tryin' to be a hero and gettin' yerself killed over it. I can take care of myself. You see an opportunity to leave, an' you better do it."

Glenn didn't look like he approved of that idea. "I won't just leave you here," he refused, shaking his head for effect.

"Then at least go out and find a weapon or something and come back for me," Daryl advised. "It would be a damn shame if you somehow escaped and then let yerself get caught again."

Daryl glanced over at the door when he noticed out of the corner of his eye someone walking by it. The door had a small window in the middle, which allowed Daryl a tiny view at what was going on outside of the room.

"What do you think they'll do to us?" Glenn wondered as he glanced over at the door as well.

"Don't know," Daryl started. He felt his shoulders slump and wished he could sink into the bed when he saw Alex peek in through the window. "Looks like we'll find out soon," he sighed.

"Finally awake." Alex smiled as he walked into the room. He was followed by Jim, who held a tray of medical instruments in his hands. Daryl wondered what the third guy's involvement in this whole deal was. He never seemed to have any verbal input and wasn't with his friends now either. Daryl wondered if maybe Paul was just a follower of the other two. Maybe he could convince the man to let them go. If he was weaker in resolve than his companions, it might not be too difficult.

"Since you two never told us your names," Alex started. "I'm going to call you Sixteen and Seventeen. But you get to decide which one you'd like to be. So if one is your favorite number, speak up now."

Daryl just stared at him. Why the fuck would he give a shit which number this guy called him? He noticed Glenn didn't seem to have a preference either.

"Well, Sixteen's probably going to hurt more," Jim noted.

Daryl frowned. "What the fuck's that supposed to mean?" he wondered.

Jim laughed. "It's not really that much of a difference. I'd guess Sixteen would be more painful, but it might not really... If it is, it would be only slightly."

"We'll tell you our names," Glenn offered in a timid voice. "If that'll make things any better... I'm Glenn, and he's Daryl..."

Jim shook his head. "I think you'd prefer Sixteen and Seventeen," he said cryptically. "At least they're just two-digit numbers... Any takers? Anyone want to volunteer to be Sixteen? Seventeen?"

Both of the men remained silent. Daryl didn't know what the fuck these guys were planning, but he didn't really feel like playing along.

"Alright, Sixteen." Jim smirked down at Glenn.

"Wait," Daryl sighed. "I'll be Sixteen..." He wasn't sure what Alex was on about, but if he claimed choosing sixteen would result in more pain, Daryl supposed he'd be willing to take that bullet if it would spare Glenn. The kid already seemed near his rope's end.

"That's sweet." Alex smiled down at Daryl. He turned toward the tray Jim and brought in and started pushing the medical instruments about until he found the one he wanted. "You do Sixteen; I'll do Seventeen," he said to Jim.

"Aww... Can't I do Seventeen? Please?" Jim sounded like a child begging for a toy at the grocery store. Daryl always hated kids like that - privileged little whiners who were given anything and everything they ever bitched for.

"Fine," Alex agreed. "But remember, Jim... he's a person... He's alive. Be as gentle as you can."

Daryl frowned. "What are you gonna do?" he wondered.

"We're giving you your numbers." Alex smiled. "Don't worry. It won't hurt that bad," he added as he stepped toward Daryl.

In that instant, Daryl was pretty sure he finally understood what Alex and Jim were going to do. Each of them held a scalpel in his hand. They were going to cut the numbers into their 'patients.'

"Can't you remember two numbers without writin' 'em down?" Daryl mocked, hoping he could convince these guys to change their minds. "I mean really... How fuckin' hard is it? You guys stupid or somethin?"

Alex laughed. "It's not wise to make rude remarks toward someone who's got a scalpel in his hand. But I realize you're just scared... It's not about remembering numbers. It's about tradition. All of our patients have had a number, and all of those numbers were cut into their arms, as a sort of tattoo or brand. You may have noticed Eleven's number, if it was in fact her who you found..."

Daryl frowned. Alex was referring to the girl he and Glenn had found in the shop. He hadn't counted on ever knowing anything else about her, but apparently she'd been through a lot since this whole zombie apocalypse broke out. The poor girl was not only left to die in a mental hospital, but was tortured for some unknown amount of time, in an unknown manner, by these sick fucks. She finally escaped, only to get killed by the undead, probably very painfully, by being ripped apart while she was still alive.

Maybe her death wasn't from her carelessness or stupidity after all. If these guys had been doing experiments on her, she was probably pretty weak and disoriented. And of course, she was in a mental hospital for a reason... But Daryl didn't think much of psychology. Everyone has issues and flaws. The poor girl probably was forced into this hospital just because society couldn't handle her. And everyone else's inability to understand the girl had caused her untimely death.

"She didn't have a number... Her arms were mostly eaten off," Glenn stammered. "So not all your patients have their marks anymore... The traditions already broken." He made his own small attempt at changing their minds.

"It's not up for discussion." Alex shrugged as he walked around to the other side of Daryl's bed. Alex was now on his left, so Daryl could look over and see Glenn perfectly well. "Hold still, and it won't hurt so much. I'll make it as quick as I can," Alex instructed.

Daryl pulled at his restraints once more, but it was still no use. He was trapped. There was nothing he could do about this, so instead, he just lay still as he felt the cold metal of the scalpel touch the skin on his lower arm, only a few inches above the leather strap around his wrist. This was certainly going to hurt, but he'd experienced worse pain in his life, so he knew he could get through it. Fighting wasn't going to do him any good. In fact, it might very well make this whole ordeal worse, so he wasn't going to waste his efforts thrashing about like a trapped wild animal. In addition to that, he wasn't about to beg and plead with this guy. It wouldn't work, and Daryl wasn't the type of person who showed pain or fear. He certainly didn't want to give these assholes the satisfaction of knowing how much pain they were causing him.

As he felt the edge of the scalpel pierce his skin, Daryl gritted his teeth and looked over to Glenn, who was still pleading with Jim.

"Please don't do this," the younger man begged as he pulled uselessly at his restraints. Daryl frowned when he remembered how tight the boy's restraints had seemed before. Pulling at them was probably damaging his wrists.

Daryl wanted to urge the kid to stop struggling, to avoid hurting himself worse, but he didn't want to encourage him giving up. Glenn already seemed terrified and ready to resign himself to death. He didn't want that to happen. Glenn needed to feel like he wasn't doomed. When the boy stopped fighting, Daryl would know he was becoming just as jaded as Daryl was.

He noticed Jim leaning down with a scalpel on the other side of Glenn's body. "Stop moving," he ordered. "It's not that big of a deal. Just calm down," he added.

Daryl knew the instant the scalpel cut into the younger man's skin, because Glenn immediately winced and jerked his arm away as much as he could. "Stop!" Glenn continued pleading in a frantic voice, and seemed to make no effort at ceasing his movements.

"Damn it," Jim muttered, grabbing onto Glenn's arm with his free hand. "Hold still, or you're going to mess it up."

Daryl could still feel the blade of the scalpel running slowly and carefully over his skin. He felt the cold, biting pain and the warm sensation of blood running down his arm. Even so, he kept his focus on his younger companion, who seemed to not be taking the cruel punishment as well as Daryl was.

Glenn's eyes were squeezed shut by now and he seemed to be trying to lean as far away from Jim as he possibly could. Daryl grimaced at the pain he saw in Glenn's face and at the soft whimpers he heard coming from the boy's direction. He could see Glenn's chest rising and falling way too fast.

"Glenn," Daryl finally broke his silence and called over to the younger man. "Look at me."

The boy didn't seem to hear him. He kept his eyes squeezed tightly shut and continued his heavy, panicked breathing.

"Open your eyes, Glenn," Daryl rephrased, louder this time.

Finally, the kid listened. He opened his eyes and stared directly into Daryl's.

"You're okay," Daryl assured him. "He's probably almost done. Just don't think about it," he suggested. He noticed Alex had finished his work on Daryl's arm and had taken a step back. That meant Jim had to be through soon too. Daryl fought the urge to look down at his own arm and examine his new scar. Instead, he kept his focus on Glenn as the younger man stared intently into his eyes. The poor boy's eyes shone with tears and his lower lip was trembling slightly. For a moment, he started to turn his head as if to look over at what Jim was doing.

"Keep lookin' at me," Daryl ordered. He didn't think it was a good idea for the kid to witness his own skin being cut. He was scared enough as it was. That would only panic him further.

Daryl and Glenn maintained their eye contact with each other as Jim continued carving the number into the boy's arm. Daryl could see Glenn was in pain, but he could also see the kid was trying to stay strong. He was shaking slightly and wincing with every subtle movement Jim made with his scalpel.

Seeing Glenn in so much pain and fright made Daryl angry and frustrated. He wished there was something he could do, but there simply wasn't. Having someone hurt him or someone he cared about pissed him off more than anything; when he couldn't even do anything to make things better afterward, it was unbearable. Poor Glenn just stared at him with his large, wet eyes, and the only comfort Daryl could offer back to the boy was his own eye contact. At least this way maybe Glenn wouldn't feel completely alone. Daryl was there to share his pain.

"All done." Jim grinned as he stood up straight and patted the top of Glenn's head.

Glenn shrunk away as much as he could. His rapid breathing had slowed a bit, but he still stared at Daryl as if their eye contact with each other was the only thing keeping him from losing his mind.

"I guess I should have gotten bandages," Alex sighed. "I'll be right back," he added as he casually strolled out of the room.

"You know, Seventeen," Jim started as he stood over Glenn and stared down at him. "You and I don't always see eye to eye, but I think you're going to be my favorite patient yet."

Daryl frowned. "The fuck's wrong with you?" he growled, trying to take Jim's attention away from Glenn. He was acting so fucking creepy.

Jim just laughed. "Nothing's wrong with me," he assured Daryl but quickly turned his focus back on Glenn. Glenn wasn't looking at Daryl anymore. He was staring up at Jim now, as the other man put his hand lightly on Glenn's stomach. "I don't know what experiments we can do besides just drugging you guys up on different stuff... But maybe Alex knows of something more fun than that. He was a medical student once, you know. I think he's only done surgery on two of the other patients, and those didn't work out too well. He'll probably want to be more careful with you two."

Glenn's entire body tensed as Jim's hand trailed down to the hem of his shirt and lifted it to expose Glenn's stomach and chest. He proceeded to poke Glenn's stomach with his finger and then placed his hands lightly on Glenn's ribs, eliciting a soft gasp from the boy's mouth. "I could probably break your ribs with my hands," the man commented as he slowly pressed his hands down on the boy's chest.

"Stop it," Daryl cut in. He didn't know if what Jim had said was meant to be a threat, if he was thinking out loud, or if he was just trying to scare Glenn. No matter which was the case, Daryl didn't like it.

"What's your guys' deal anyway?" Jim looked over at Daryl, but kept one of his hands firmly placed on Glenn's bare chest. "When we first noticed you guys, you were chasing him down the road... Then you tackled him and he punched you in the face... You don't seem like you're really friends... But you're certainly being sweet to him now... You got some sort of love-hate relationship going on here, or what?"

"We found that girl an' he thought there might be other survivors... He wanted to look around town for you guys just in case you needed help." Daryl glared at him. "I didn't think there'd be anyone, so I wanted to move on, but he wanted to stay and search, so he ran off. An' I chased him."

Jim nodded. "Well, he was right... Not about us needing help..."

"But he risked his life so he could make sure you random people he doesn't know were okay," Daryl added. "And now you're repaying him like this."

"Hey..." Jim pouted. "I was as gentle as I could be." He looked back down at Glenn and put his other hand - the one that wasn't on the boy's chest - against Glenn's cheek. Glenn turned his head away so that he was looking back at Daryl, but he couldn't move himself completely out of Jim's reach.

"If you like 'im so much," Daryl started, "maybe you should loosen those straps around his arms a little bit. They're cuttin' into his skin."

Jim narrowed his eyes but then looked down at Glenn's wrist. "Oh yeah... I forgot about that," he laughed slightly and shook his head back and forth a few times as if he were recalling a funny memory. "I was so pissed when he broke my syringe... I meant to fix these sooner... Just hadn't gotten around to it," he reached over to Glenn's right wrist first and unbuckled the strap.

Daryl hadn't expected Glenn to try to escape then, but the boy did so nonetheless. It seemed as soon as he could, the kid slipped his hand out of the loosened cuff and punched Jim with all his might.

As Glenn struggled with his captor, Daryl wished he could be free himself. Watching this unfair match made him feel sick. There was no way Glenn was going to get the upperhand on this guy. For one, Glenn was already smaller than the other man, and more importantly, all of his limbs but one were tied down, and thus useless to him.

Though he knew it would do no good, Daryl felt himself pulling at his own restraints as he watched Jim grab onto Glenn's free arm and force it back down against the bed. He re-fastened the restraint he had just loosened. It seemed he made it too tight again, because as soon as he did it, Glenn cried out in pain.

Jim didn't stop there. As soon as Glenn's wrist was restrained again, the other man reached down and grabbed the boy's neck, causing a frightened yelp from Glenn, who immediately starting pleading with the man. "I'm sorry!" he squeaked as he pulled uselessly at the bonds keeping his arms at his sides. "Please!" he choked as the man tightened his grip around Glenn's throat.

Daryl frowned as he noticed the similarities between this interaction and his own interactions with Glenn. Jim was clearly being cruel here, and Glenn obviously feared for his life. He'd probably felt the same way when Daryl had held him down or threatened him. "Let him go," Daryl growled. "Come on, man," Daryl persisted when Jim made no move to ease up. "You're hurting him... He was just scared. Leave 'im alone..."

It didn't look like Jim was ready to forgive Glenn. Fortunately, Alex took this opportunity to step back into the room. "What's going on, guys?" he asked casually. He glanced over at Jim whose hand was still around Glenn's throat. "Jim... What's up? Don't kill him yet."

"He punched me." Jim frowned, but loosened his grip, allowing Glenn to intake a few shaking breaths.

"How did he manage that?" Alex raised an eyebrow as he walked over to Glenn's side and looked down at him.

"I loosened his cuff... It was too tight. But then he got his hand free and hit me," Jim explained.

"I see." Alex nodded. "Well, Seventeen... You're going to need to be more cooperative... Who'd have thought out of the two of you, that you would be the one who gave us so much trouble?"

Daryl watched carefully as Alex cleaned the cut on Glenn's arm and wrapped some gauze around it. He seemed to be trying his best to be gentle in bandaging the wound. Daryl was glad the man hadn't let Jim do this part.

Alex then made his way over to Daryl, who looked down at his own arm before Alex had a chance to wrap it. He hadn't seen the cut yet before then. It wasn't really as big as it had felt. The two digit number filled a space maybe the size of a large coin on his skin. A stream of blood had run from the cut, dripping down his arm and onto the sheet which covered the bed.

Daryl wanted to tell Alex to fuck off, but he let the man clean and bandage the cut he'd created. "We'll see how these heal up," Alex explained as he bandaged Daryl's arm. "I may have to redo them later. I'll be back in a little while to check on you two. Come on, Jim." Alex motioned for his companion and the two men finally left.

Sighing loudly, Daryl looked over toward Glenn. "You okay?"

Glenn looked over at him and shook his head. "No."

"Yeah ya are," Daryl assured him. He knew Glenn was in pain, both from the number now carved in his skin as well as from his too-tight restraints, and probably also from the cruel grip Jim had had around his throat. That, and the boy was obviously terrified. But Daryl didn't want him to give up hope.

But Glenn wasn't convinced. "I can't do this," he shook his head. Daryl could see he still had tears in his eyes, but he hadn't let them fall. Maybe he was too scared to cry. "I'm not strong like you, Daryl," he said in a small, frightened voice. "Maybe you can handle people tying you up... carving numbers into your body, but I can't. They want to do experiments on us, Daryl... Who knows what they've got planned? And there's nothing we can do to stop them. I can't handle this..."

Daryl frowned. "You know what I think?" Daryl asked. "I think yer a hell of a lot stronger than you realize. You know you're even stronger than me in some regards?" Glenn just stared at him as though Daryl was speaking nonsense. The boy didn't look at all convinced, so Daryl continued. "Well, ya are. You don't necessarily have the muscle, but you've got brains... And one thing I got none of: patience. Do you realize how often my mouth gets me in trouble? If there's one thing I can't stand, it's people messing with me, and I don't got the patience you got. Someone says somethin' to me an' I don't like it, I aint gonna just sit there an' do the smart thing like you. You'd just shut up an' let them think what they want. But not me. I'll talk back, no matter how much trouble it gets me into. I can't even tell you how many times my refusal to listen to someone else's bullshit has gotten me into fist fights, or trouble at school, or trouble with my pa."

He looked over at Glenn, who just stared at him silently. "You can handle this, Glenn," Daryl assured him. "You been through a lot already. Zombies rippin' people apart around you... Me takin' you at knife-point away from yer friends... There's been so much shit goin' on that you got every right to be terrified of, an' you keep chuggin' along. An' you'll make it through this too. It's just another struggle - one of many. You just gotta stay calm until we figure somethin' out. Keep yer mind strong - an' I know you can. I seen you do it before - keep yer mind strong, and we'll make it outta here." He didn't know if he even believed himself, but he hoped he could keep Glenn from giving up hope. The kid was too young to resign himself to death already.

"Patience isn't going to do me any good this time." Glenn frowned. "We're gonna die here..."

Daryl sighed loudly. "I won't let that happen," he promised. He didn't know if he could deliver on that promise, but he was certainly going to do what he could.

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	9. Chapter 9

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Chapter 9

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Daryl stared over at Glenn as they lay in the slowly darkening room. By now, it was getting late; the sun was beginning to go down behind some trees in the distance. It wouldn't be long before it would be night time, and then it would be completely dark. If it was cloudy and the moon didn't shine, he'd probably barely be able to see a thing in a few hours. It hadn't seemed cloudy earlier in the day though, so hopefully it wouldn't be tonight either.

Glenn had been mostly silent ever since the two men had left the room a while ago. The only sounds he had been making were occasional groans of discomfort that arose when the boy moved to adjust his arms within their constricting binds. Daryl knew the kid's restraints were still way too tight. The older man could actually see a small amount of blood on the boy's left wrist - the only one of the kid's limbs the older man could really see from his lying position. Glenn's right wrist was probably even worse off. That was the one Jim had tightened the restraint on even further when Glenn had made his small attempt at escape.

Daryl watched the boy as he stared vacantly up at the ceiling. His shirt was still pulled up where Jim had left it so that his stomach and chest were exposed. His chest was rising and falling in a much more calm and controlled manner than before. For this Daryl was glad. At least he wasn't panicking so much anymore. But he didn't like how defeated the boy seemed. Ordinarily Glenn would have probably tried to make small talk at a time like this. Even in his nervousness, he'd have wanted to say at least something, but not this time.

The air in the room was a bit nippy. Glenn was probably cold, especially with his shirt pulled away from his skin like that. Each bed was equipped with sheets and blankets, but no one had bothered using them. Since Daryl and Glenn were kind of tied down, there was nothing either of them could do to keep the cold air off of themselves.

"You doin' alright over there?" Daryl finally asked. It was strange how much this silence was bothering him. He usually loved it when people finally shut the hell up. But Glenn being so silent now worried him. Glenn was supposed to be the one out of the two of them who looked on the positive side of things - the one who stayed optimistic even through pain and terror, but right now he seemed to have given up hope completely. Daryl wasn't one for trying to cheer people up or for giving pep talks; in fact, that sounded more like something Glenn would do, but it looked like Daryl and Glenn might just switch roles this time.

"What do you think they're going to do to us?" Glenn ignored Daryl's question as he voiced his own fears in a small whisper Daryl could barely hear. The boy refused to make eye contact with Daryl as he spoke.

"Not much," Daryl assured him. "I ain't gonna stand for much more of this."

Glenn forced a laugh but remained staring at the ceiling. He didn't really sound amused. His laugh sounded more like he thought Daryl was being absurd.

"You wanna hear a story?" Daryl changed the subject. He usually didn't like talking about his childhood, but he wanted to say something to make Glenn feel better about their situation, and maybe to just take his mind off himself. He didn't know what else to talk about, so he decided to search his mind for some tale of some adventure he'd had as a kid. Daryl didn't have many cheerful, lighthearted stories, so he'd have to use whatever story he thought up as more of a distraction than a comfort. Even a story that wasn't all sunshine and rainbows would be better than Glenn dwelling on all the possible horrific fates that awaited them.

Finally, the boy turned his head to face the older man. "What?" He looked confused.

Daryl sighed. He supposed it didn't matter if Glenn wanted to hear the story or not. He was just going to tell it anyway. Anything was better than the silence. "When Merle and I was just kids," Daryl started, "there was this old abandoned church in the woods near our house. Well, you might not say it was that near our house. It was about a two hour trek from our place, but we knew it well. We spent more time out in those woods than we ever spent in the house. The woods was like a second home, or a first home if you count the fact that we was barely ever in our actual house. Merle an' me knew the woods like the back our our hands."

Glenn didn't speak, but Daryl could tell he was listening. His dark eyes seemed intently focused on Daryl's face as the older man continued the story.

"Merle always got in a lot of trouble as a teenager, so he wasn't always around, but back when he wasn't gettin' arrested all the time, me and him spent a lot of time together. We didn't much get along with other kids, so we kept pretty well to ourselves," Daryl continued. "We'd spend the night in that church sometimes, me an' him. Lot of times it was better than sleepin' at home... Or else, tryin' ta sleep at home."

"Why couldn't you sleep at home?" Glenn wondered, his voice quiet, but his eyes intently focused on the older man. He seemed really interested in this random, boring story for some reason. Daryl couldn't say he understood why Glenn would care about this, but he'd guessed the kid would, and he was right. His aim was to distract the kid from his present situation, and it seemed to be working.

Daryl shrugged. He didn't really want to get into that. That aspect of the story wasn't comforting at all. Hearing about Daryl's abusive, drunken father wouldn't bring Glenn any ounce of comfort, and wouldn't bring any comfort to Daryl either, so he kept it short and simple, saying only what he wanted to so as to allow Glenn to make his own assumptions. "One day when our dad was really pissed off at us, Merle sneaked me out through the back door of the house and we took off runnin' toward that church. It wasn't till we were way into the woods that we realized our pa hadn't followed us an' we finally slowed down."

"Was Merle nice to you when you were kids?" Glenn frowned. He looked worried again.

"Sure." Daryl shrugge., "I mean, we was little boys, so we fought all the time... But we got along sometimes too. A lot how we were in camp, before he got left behind on that roof-top. We stuck together, 'cause it seemed the rest of the world was out to get us. Merle and me been close our whole lives. Even when he got sent to juvie, we'd always be thick as thieves when he came back. Sure, we'd get mad at each other and get into fist fights. He even broke my collar bone once. An' one time I broke his nose. But when things got tough, he was always there. When Pa was in one of his moods, I could always count on Merle to get us outta there."

Glenn smiled. "So he protected you."

Daryl frowned. "Well, I don't know if I'd say that..."

"He's your older brother, Daryl." Glenn stared at him. "That's what he's supposed to do. Don't think it makes him look bad... Caring about someone isn't a weakness. It's a strength. It's actually comforting to know there was more to him than what we all saw. He didn't hate everyone... There was actually someone in the world he cared about... Well, cares about..." Glenn corrected himself. Merle wasn't dead... At least not confirmed dead.

Daryl shook his head. "Anyway... We made it out to the church. It was this old wooden building. Part of the roof was caved in, and all the windows was broken out. If people other than me and Merle knew about it, they'd have probably knocked it down so we couldn't play there. You know how people are, thinkin' kids are so stupid they can't sense danger. It wasn't like we were walkin' around on the roof or anything stupid."

"Well, it could have collapsed," Glenn added. "While you guys were inside."

"But it didn't," Daryl explained. "You gonna let me tell the damn story, or you gonna argue with me?" As much as he was glad Glenn was finally speaking without fear in his voice, he still didn't like being interrupted.

"Sorry..." Glenn snapped his mouth shut.

"We had all sorts of shit we'd dragged in there. Old chairs people had thrown out, candles... Sometimes we'd light fires in the hearth at the front and cook in there... Shit... We were livin' like there was a zombie apocalypse before any of it ever even happened." He laughed. "That night, we lit candles all around the building. It looked like we was havin' some sort of vigil for someone who died or somethin. We let the candles burn for hours, until they started burnin' themselves out. Normally we'd try to conserve them. Not use 'em all up in one go, you know? But not that night. For some reason we both kinda felt like it was the end... Like we wouldn't need to save the candles for another night. Like there wouldn't be another night."

Glenn's wide eyes still stared at him, but the boy kept quiet.

"Our pa just seemed so pissed that day... So I guess we kinda felt like if we could just get through that night, we'd be on the home stretch an' everything would be okay. So we burnt all those candles all the way down to stubs, and ended up fallin' asleep without putting any of them out manually," he explained. "You know how wax kinda helps things burn?"

Glenn shrugged.

"Well, it does... You drip wax on a fire, it's gonna get bigger. And you pour wax on a hunk of wood, an' it's gonna catch fire faster. Anyway, some of those candles weren't really burnt out when we fell asleep... Long story short, we burnt the whole fucking church to the ground. We're lucky we got out - guess we can thank the broken out windows fer that - and we're lucky we didn't catch the whole fuckin' woods on fire."

"Wow..." Glenn frowned. "That's really sad."

Daryl furrowed his brow. "What? No it ain't..."

"But that church was special to you guys, wasn't it? You said you'd go there all the time. Weren't you sad when it was gone?"

Daryl shook his head. "Nah. We still went back even after it was burnt. An' as we got older, we got smart enough to sleep in a tent instead of in a decaying building with the roof caving in around us. Burning it down might'a saved our lives, in a way."

"I guess so." Glenn's mouth twitched toward a partial smile.

"You got any brothers?" Daryl asked.

Glenn shook his head. "Sisters."

Daryl laughed. "Well, that explains a lot."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Glenn frowned.

"Well," Daryl started. "Yer just not like Merle..."

"I take that as a compliment," Glenn responded. The boy was still frowning.

Daryl shook his head. "I'm used to bein' able to rough-house with Merle... Call 'im names, punch him, tackle him... You just seem more sensitive about those things. I always gotta worry about hurtin' yer feelings an' shit. I never spent much time with anyone other than Merle... An' I know you're with me against your will, but we've been spendin' a lot of time together, and I've just got to worry more with you. You get offended and don't fight back as hard... I figured it's probably because you didn't have brothers messin' with you all the time growin' up. Sisters just ain't the same. You didn't have no one teachin' you how to fight or how to not take shit so personal."

Glenn laughed. "Well, my sisters and I fought all the time too. Maybe I didn't punch them, or threaten to beat them to death... or call them racial slurs, but we had our fair share of disagreements. Besides, Merle's probably got feelings too... Somewhere deep down... I think..."

"Nah," Daryl disagreed. "I mean, if you fuck him over, he's gonna be pissed, but he don't get all weepy like a woman when you hit him or call him a bastard."

"I don't weep like a woman." Glenn stared at him. The kid actually looked offended.

"Fair enough." Daryl let the subject drop. He supposed Glenn wasn't really all that sensitive. Compared to normal people, he was probably pretty average. He only really got defensive when Daryl said something racist to him or threatened his life... And that was understandable, he supposed. Merle and Daryl were just raised differently. They learned from an early age not to take things too seriously or get too upset about anything.

Unfortunately, with that, their conversation ended and their silence was resumed. Glenn sighed and went back to staring at the ceiling.

But Daryl wasn't ready for the uncomfortable silence to fall back over them just yet. If neither of the men were talking, there would be too much room for thinking and feeling dreadful. "You got any stories from when you was a kid?" Daryl wondered. He watched the younger man turn his head back toward Daryl. "Surely you got all sorts of interesting tales from Ch- Korea..."

Glenn smiled and his eyes brightened. Without speaking a word, he showed Daryl how happy he was that the older man had finally gotten his nationality correct. "I actually didn't spend much time in Korea. I lived in Michigan for most of my childhood," Glenn explained. "But I guess I could think up something... My sisters and I probably didn't have as exciting lives as you and Merle did. No adventures in the woods or discovering old abandoned buildings... I never had anything like that until recently..."

"I'm sure your life was plenty interesting. Growin' up with a bunch of sisters? You were probably battling their PMS twenty-four seven," Daryl noted. "I don't know if I could have lived with a bunch of girls. I'd have gone nuts."

"It wasn't so bad," Glenn explained. "Everyone has mood swings - not only girls..." He paused for a moment and looked like he was thinking. He was probably trying to come up with a story. "I thought of one you might appreciate," Glenn smirked slightly.

Daryl smiled as well. He was so glad Glenn seemed more calm now. If Daryl didn't know any better, he'd think the younger man wasn't afraid anymore at all. But even if he was distracted, the boy's wrists and ankles were still strapped down. It would be impossible for him to forget about their predicament completely. "Well, go for it then. I'm all ears," Daryl instructed.

"Well, we lived in the city, only about six blocks away from the school, so my sisters and I would walk together every day. I think I was in maybe grade three at the time. But the middle school was really close to the elementary school, so older kids would be walking around too, and some of them were pretty mean. There were these two in particular who were always messing with us, calling us names, pushing us around, stealing from us. They were probably twelve or thirteen years old, and I was just eight or nine. My sisters were younger than them too. At the time, I hated those bullies, for picking on us all the time, but I guess their home lives were probably pretty messed up or something... They probably just needed someone to-"

"No," Daryl interrupted. "It don't matter what your home life's like. There's no reason to pick on kids half your age. They were just bein' dicks. There's no excuse for shit like that."

Glenn's eyes were wide. "What? You never picked on any other kids?" He raised his eyebrows. He seemed skeptical.

"'Course I did," Daryl scoffed. "But when I was thirteen, I wasn't messing with third-graders. Fuck. I'd put people in their place when they were my own age. I may not get along with people, but I ain't a fuckin' bully."

Glenn shrugged as best as he could. "Well, anyway, for a while, they'd steal our lunches every morning, and then the teachers would make us buy school lunches, which were really gross, though they don't seem so bad now... But then our parents would owe the school money, so they'd be mad at us too... It was just a mess. I lost so much sleep over it, because I didn't want to tell my mom and dad or the teachers. I didn't want them to think... I don't know... I just didn't want anyone to know other kids were picking on me... I'm not sure why."

Daryl frowned. It made him feel bad to think of eight-year old Glenn and his young sisters being picked on by older boys. Of course, Daryl knew kids were mean, and Merle happened to be one of the meanest kids he ever met. Now, Merle was the kind of guy who'd probably tease eight year olds, even when he himself was into his teen years. Daryl never liked that about him, but teaching your older brother anything didn't come easy, not when he thought he already knew everything.

The kid must have noticed Daryl's frown. "It's okay though. Don't get depressed. It all works out in the end," he promised. "So these kids would steal our lunches every day, no matter what we tried. We tried keeping them in our bags so they'd think we didn't have any, but that only resulted in them stealing our homework too. We even tried taking a different route to school, but then we ended up being late, and our parents got really mad... It just seemed like there was no way out of it. That is, until we thought of a way to get them back for everything they'd done..."

"What'd you do?" Daryl narrowed his eyes. It couldn't have been anything violent...

"Well, my oldest sister and I were in charge of making all of our lunches, and since we knew we wouldn't be eating them anyway, we made them extra special," Glenn explained. "Every day we'd have peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, some sort of fruit, and then we'd buy milk at school. So all we could really tamper with were the sandwiches. We sprinkled pepper all over the middle of each sandwich, so they wouldn't notice it right away. We just had to hope they'd eat the whole thing."

Daryl raised his eyebrow. "Did they?" he wondered.

"Apparently," Glenn laughed. "Because they were waiting for us after school... They probably had to skip one of their classes to be there too, because the middle school let out after the elementary school. When I saw them, I told my sisters to go home the long way. I knew the older kids would be really mad, and since it was my idea to put the pepper in the sandwiches, I didn't want my sisters to be punished for it. Fortunately, neither of them followed my sisters. They both just stared at me as I walked up to them as calmly as I could manage. I was terrified of course, but I tried to hide it."

Frowning, Daryl continued listening. He almost didn't want to hear what happened next. How could this story possibly have a happy ending? The older kids probably beat the hell out of him for what he did... "I bet they were pissed," he commented. He felt dread for younger Glenn, but knew he'd made it out okay, because he was here now and still had all his limbs. He did respect Glenn's ingenuity though. Even when he was a kid, he was using his brain instead of violence. Not the way Daryl would have done it, but possibly just as effective. He also respected that the boy had sent his sisters away and had faced the bullies on his own. It was stupid, but also brave and noble. It seemed Glenn had been willing to risk his own life for the benefit of those he cared about ever since he as just a child.

"Yeah." Glenn nodded as much as his lying down position allowed. "Very. As soon as I got over to them, before I even had a chance to say anything, the bigger one punched me, seemingly as hard as she could."

"Wait... wait..." Daryl narrowed his eyes. "She? They was girls?"

"Yeah," Glenn responded. "Does it matter? They were big compared to us... And middle school is about the time when girls get their main growth spurt... Trust me. It wasn't a fair fight at all."

Daryl suppressed a laugh. "I'm sorry," he couldn't help but smirk slightly. "Here I was picturing two huge boys picking on a little boy and some little girls..."

"Don't be sexist, Daryl." Glenn frowned. "Teenaged girls can be pretty mean and violent, and if you're just a little kid, it's not something you'd want to be a part of. You should consider yourself lucky you've never been on the receiving end of an eighth grade girl's wrath."

"Okay," Daryl sighed. "Sorry... I guess I can see how it would be a little unfair. I just didn't think girls were bullies as much as boys... But I s'pose teenaged girls can do a lot of damage to little kids too... I just never thought they'd want to."

"Well, these two did. If the principal hadn't come out of the school, those girls might have killed me," Glenn laughed. "Girls are freakin' mean, Daryl. Maybe you don't remember, but they can be just awful. They actually had me on the ground, kicking me until Mr. Keller stopped them. And then, of course, our parents got involved after that. There was no way around it. No matter how much I begged Mr. Keller not to call my parents, he just wouldn't agree to keep it a secret. He was right, of course, to call them. My mom insisted on driving me and my sisters to school every day after that... I guess it wasn't as much of a clear cut solution as it could have been... And the girls did still bother us sometimes, but they never took our lunches again. I think they were scared to eat anything we brought with us in our lunches after that. You'd have probably just punched them the first time they messed with you and gotten it over with right from the start..."

"You kiddin?" Daryl scoffed. "I don't hit girls. Even if they're bullies. I'd have just laughed at 'em and gone on my way."

"Not if they were bigger than you." Glenn frowned. "You can't just ignore someone and walk away when they grab you and won't let you leave..."

Daryl sighed. He supposed Glenn was right. He'd never had any girls pick on him. Not anything serious anyway. Most people, no matter what their gender, didn't dare mess with him, not when he was a kid, and not now. "I guess you have a point," Daryl admitted. "I just never woulda thought girls would do somethin' like that. I thought they mostly just talked behind each others' backs and got into cat fights. Didn't know they'd pick on younger kids... Don't know if I woulda hit them though... I guess it's a pretty tricky situation."

"Yeah," Glenn agreed. "But it all worked out in the end."

"True." Daryl nodded. "An' those bitches are probably dead now anyway."

Glenn narrowed his eyes at the older man, but then he started laughing. "I guess so," he agreed. Then he frowned. "That's not really funny though... They were kids too. What you do when you're a kid doesn't define you for the rest of your life. Maybe they grew up to be nice people..."

"Don't matter now." Daryl shrugged. "They're probably dead either way."

"Probably." Glenn nodded but didn't say anything more.

Daryl sighed loudly and stared back up at the ceiling. It was built out of those cheap panels a school's ceiling might be built of - the somewhat spongy kind you could throw pencils at and get them to stick. But the sun was still going down, of course. He supposed he wouldn't be able to see even the boring sight of the ceiling before long.

As much as he didn't want their silence to start back up again, Daryl didn't see that there was really anything else to do. They could stare at the ceiling, or the wall, or the other wall, or each other. Or they could try to fall asleep... Being fastened securely to beds, they didn't have any other options. Daryl needed to get them out of here, and he needed to act fast. They couldn't afford to spend their time telling stories and keeping their minds off themselves forever. They needed to do something. If they didn't free themselves soon, they'd end up dead for sure.

He wasn't going to tell Glenn this, because he didn't want to scare him or get his hopes up, but the next chance he got, Daryl was either getting them out of this building or getting himself killed in the process of trying...

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	10. Chapter 10

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Chapter 10

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As Daryl lay in the ever darkening room, he listened to all the sounds around him. During all of his years of hunting and tracking, he'd taught himself to be very good at listening to his surroundings and picking up on small details other people might not notice. Oftentimes, his hunt would run over into nighttime, so he'd have to rely on sounds more than sights. Therefore, he had a good ear for picking up on little sounds and discerning their origins.

Within the room, he could hear the breathing of both himself and his younger companion. Glenn's breaths were steady and even now, and for that Daryl was grateful. His distraction of story-telling seemed to have worked. They were both still in a world of trouble, but at least he didn't have to deal with Glenn freaking out about it. Not right now anyway. Fortunately, the boy seemed to have finally made it to a point where he understood that hyperventilating wasn't going to solve anything. Of course, Daryl knew that might all go out the window once any of their captors returned.

Outside, Daryl could hear the steady, never-ending hum of crickets chirping. While the world was busy going to hell for the humans, it seemed to be staying pretty much the same for everything else. Crickets went about their business just as they always did. Other animals did too. Sure, now deer and cows would be killed by being bitten into and eaten alive by walkers, but they were already low on the food chain anyway. He supposed for some other animals life had probably gotten more dangerous. Dogs, cats, horses, and other animals humans hardly ever ate before were fair game now. But it seemed humans were the ones who truly got the raw end of this deal. Now not only were they at the bottom of the food chain, but their their main predator was each other. Walking dead would kill the living, and if the dead didn't do it, the living would turn on each other. The world was doomed as far as humans were concerned.

Still keeping quiet, Daryl listened some more. He could hear the light sounds of footsteps from somewhere down the hall. The three strangers were still up and moving, so he and Glenn could not rest easy for the night. Maybe their captors were just walking around, organizing supplies or whatever it was they had to do to keep their hospital-home up and running. Or maybe they were busy planning some fucked up operation on their two "patients." Daryl was going to assume the worst until proven wrong. For now, he was on guard. There wasn't much he could do while being tied up like this, but he could at least know what to expect and try his hardest to work something out.

The older man grimaced as he heard the footsteps coming nearer. He glanced over at Glenn, who was still just staring up at the ceiling. He must not have noticed the foot steps. Either that, or he'd accepted that it didn't much matter what he heard.

Of course Daryl wasn't surprised when the door opened. Glenn didn't seem phased by it either. Both of them turned to see who it was that was coming into the room this time. Strangely enough, it was only Jim and Paul. For some reason, Alex didn't join them. Maybe that meant there wasn't going to be much going on. Alex was the one who seemed to be in charge; maybe he'd sent his errand boys to check in on their patients. Or maybe Jim and Paul were in here without the permission of their leader. Maybe they were going to do something they weren't supposed to be doing...

"You two still doing alright?" Jim asked as he walked in. He looked at Daryl first, and then glared down angrily at Glenn. He must not have forgiven the boy for punching him earlier.

Neither of the two answered. Of course they weren't doing alright... They were strapped to beds in a mental hospital during the fucking zombie apocalypse. That was far from them doing 'alright.'

"We're just here to take some information down," Paul explained without emotion. He seemed so distant from this whole situation. He didn't seem to be excited by it like Alex and Jim. But he didn't seem to be against it either. There was no reluctance in his voice. The man just didn't seem to care what his friends did at all. He seemingly had no opinion whatsoever on any of this.

"Alex wants to know more about you guys before he does anything else," Jim elaborated. "And don't you lie about anything. If you do, it'll just fuck things up and make everything worse for you. For instance, if you say you weigh more than you really do, we'll overdose you. And if you say you weigh less, we won't dose you enough and you might be awake during stuff you probably won't want to know about..."

Daryl glanced over at Glenn. The boy looked very tense. His hand was balled into a fist and his breathing was a bit quicker than before.

"So just answer our questions truthfully, and you'll be fine," Paul added. In one hand he held a pen and in the other a clipboard. He put the pen against the paper and looked to Daryl first. "Weight?"

Daryl shrugged. "I don't know..." He didn't often weigh himself, and he couldn't even remember the last time he'd gone to the doctor. "Don't you guys got a scale in here somewhere?"

"Just take your best guess," Jim instructed. "In case you haven't noticed, we aren't quite doing things by the book here. A little estimation won't hurt."

Sighing, Daryl stared at the man. He didn't know if it would be better to guess on the high or low end. Would he rather be over-dosed or under-dosed? He certainly didn't want to feel anything if he was being cut into, but he didn't want to be too out of it either. Maybe it would be worth a little extra pain just to know what was going on... Or maybe, since he'd be unable to do anything about it regardless, it would be better to just have the proper dosage of anesthetic. It all depended on what medications these men planned on using, and why. He supposed he should just try to make his guess as accurate as possible. "One-seventy?" he finally decided.

"Okay-" Paul wrote something down and then looked over to Glenn. "You?"

Glenn hesitated as well. His eyes looked worried still as he frowned over at Paul. Maybe he didn't know his weight either. Or maybe he was trying to figure out what the best lie would be. "A hundred and forty?" Glenn sounded uncertain.

"Alright." Paul wrote that down as well. "Blood type?" He looked at Daryl.

Daryl shrugged. "Don't know. And I can't guess on that one."

"Fine." Paul looked at Glenn.

Glenn shrugged. "I don't know..."

"Jim's going to take your blood pressure and heart rate... I think that'll be about it. We can't really do much without electricity," Paul explained. "You both look healthy enough anyway... I doubt much will go wrong unless Alex does something risky."

Daryl watched as Jim went over to Glenn first. The boy held completely still and said absolutely nothing. He still seemed tense and nervous. He probably didn't want to risk making Jim angry again, but probably didn't find this situation nearly as scary as the last time Jim had been hovering over him. Daryl wondered if Jim even knew what he was doing. The older man put the cuff around Glenn's arm as Paul continued talking.

"When we first got here, there was still electricity," Paul said. "I guess there was some sort of back up generator or something... I don't know how it all works. Maybe it just took a little bit for the electricity to go out after the world kind of ended. It didn't last long though. But we had so much freedom with our first patients. Not that it mattered much to me. I don't know how to test blood or anything anyway. Alex was pretty excited about it, and we were able to have heart monitors running so we could keep better track of who was doing okay and who wasn't. And I'm betting you know how important it is to know if someone's alive or dead in this world... We had one patient die, and we didn't know it until the next day... The guy nearly ripped his own hands off trying to get up and eat the other patients."

Daryl looked up at Paul. Maybe if they weren't injecting their patients with zombie blood they wouldn't have to worry about them dying and coming back... He didn't want to make Paul angry just yet though. For now, he wanted to try to reason with the man. "Do you even like doin' all this?" he asked. "All these medical experiments?"

Paul shrugged, "It's alright."

"You don't feel at all guilty for torturing people?" Daryl whispered, hoping he could allow Paul to hear him without letting Jim in on this conversation. He didn't want Jim's input on this, and he supposed his best chance at convincing Paul to let them go would be if the other two men stayed out of their conversation.

Paul shook his head. "I'm not torturing anyone. Have I done anything to torture you or your friend since you've been here?" The man raised his eyebrows and looked like Daryl had just insulted him. "I think I've been perfectly civil."

"You're standing back and letting your friends experiment on people... living, breathing, unwilling people. Those two sick fucks carved numbers into our skin... And they did it to all their other 'patients' too," Daryl hissed. "Maybe you ain't the one actually doing any of it, but by sitting back and watching them, and doing nothing to stop them, you're just as fucked up as they are. Do you want to allow shit like this to go on right under your nose?"

For the first time, Daryl noticed a flash of anger in Paul's eyes. It seemed the man wasn't indifferent about everything. "You'd be wise to refrain from calling my brothers 'sick fucks,'" he advised.

Daryl had to fight the urge to allow this to turn into a yelling match. As much as he wanted to scream at this guy, he knew it would do him no good. So instead, he took a page from Glenn's book, sighed, and did his best to remain calm. "Listen, man," he started. "I understand that you respect your brothers, but you don't gotta follow them and do things you don't agree with. You gotta know this is messed up..."

Paul shook his head. "I'm not arguing with you about this," he explained. "I honestly don't care what they do to you guys. Maybe I don't like experimenting on people as much as they do, but I'm certainly not going to double-cross them in favor of a couple strangers. I don't know you guys. I don't care about you at all. They can cut out your tongue and eyes while your friend watches for all I care. This world isn't ever going to be what it used to be. There's no reason to pretend to be a good person anymore."

"There never was a reason to pretend to be nice," Daryl scoffed, feeling any hope he had of convincing Paul to help them quickly fading. Maybe he should have let Glenn do the talking... The boy probably wouldn't have gotten angry and insulted this guy and his brothers as fast as Daryl had.

"Yeah there was," Paul disagreed. "If we'd done this before, I'd have gone to jail with the rest of them, but not if I tried to stop them. As it is now, I have no obligation to keep them from doing whatever their hearts desire. I don't care, and I don't have to care. No pressure."

"You realize Alex is kind of like your boss, right? You're in the middle of a zombie-fucking-apocalypse, and you still get up every morning and go to work. This is a job. Having me and Glenn here has created a job for you. One which you don't get paid to do... You're working for your brother, for free, for no reason. Yer workin' right now." Daryl tried one last tactic.

Paul shook his head. "Have we really got anything better to do?" He raised his eyebrow and almost smiled.

It seemed there was nothing he could say to convince this guy, so Daryl looked back toward Glenn. Jim was taking the cuff off his arm and looked up toward Paul. "I think his blood pressure's normal. Does it really even matter? I mean, what if it wasn't normal? Would Alex just let him go? I don't think so."

Paul wrote something else on his clip board. "Now do his." He gestured toward Daryl.

Jim walked around Glenn's bed so that he stood over Daryl. He slipped the cuff under Daryl's restrained arm, fastened it around his bicep, and then started pumping air into it. "I think I was doing it too slow last time," Jim commented. "It took forever to fill up."

Daryl rolled his eyes. "What good is it to send you two idiots in here? Alex may as well have sent in a couple of monkeys." He knew it wasn't wise to taunt these guys, but the way he saw it, if he could make them more angry at him than at Glenn, he could at least spare Glenn from receiving any of their anger in the form of physical pain. He also doubted these two would do too much without Alex here.

Jim glared at him and pumped the air into the cuff faster, probably in an attempt to hurt Daryl's arm. "You guys are the dumbest patients we've ever had," Jim stared down at him. "And that's saying something, considering the only other patients we had were mental hospital patients. You know, insane people... At least they didn't talk back to us so much... Don't either of you realize we have you at our complete mercy? I could kill you right now if I wanted to. I could do whatever I want, and here you are calling me stupid..."

Daryl could feel the pressure around his arm becoming too tight, but Jim continued pumping air into the cuff. Jim was obviously still angry. As much as he overfilled the cuff, Daryl kept a straight face and refused to acknowledge the growing pain in his arm.

"You're going to blow that thing up," Paul reminded him. "And when you do, Alex is going to be pissed. You already let a syringe get broken."

Jim ripped the cuff off Daryl's arm and shoved it toward Paul. "That wasn't my fault," he growled. "His blood pressure's fine."

Daryl almost wanted to laugh. Why did Jim even bother trying to take their vitals when he had no idea how to? Why had Alex sent him to do a job he was clueless about? It would have been funnier if Jim wasn't in a position to take out his anger and frustration on Daryl and Glenn. It wouldn't be so bad if Daryl laughed and Jim hit him for it, but Daryl didn't want his amusement to end up getting Glenn hurt, so he kept his smile tucked away and refrained from laughing.

Paul grinned and marked another note down on his paper. He clearly didn't care much about the accuracy of whatever forms he was filling out, and seemed to find amusement in this just like Daryl had. "Alright. Heart rate," he instructed. "I can do it if you want."

"No." Jim frowned. "I'll do it."

Paul handed him a stethoscope he'd been holding under his clip board. "Just count how many beats there are in one minute. Does your watch still work? Or do you want me to keep time?"

"I got it." Jim sounded irritated. He put the ear tips into his ears and the chest piece over Daryl's heart and began listening.

As he waited for Jim to be finished, Daryl glanced over at Glenn, who actually looked quite worried. Glenn must not have seen any humor in this. The younger man maintained eye contact with Daryl, who tried to give him a reassuring look. He wasn't sure how to pull off such a look though, and judging by Glenn's furrowed brows, his attempts weren't working.

Glenn's eyes moved up to Paul. He hesitated for a moment, but Daryl could tell he was trying to build up the courage to say something. Finally, he did. "We know where there are some supplies you can have if you let us go," Glenn tried to bargain. "Food, water, lots of guns and bullets... You name it and we probably have it," he lied. "We have a camp set up nearby and we've collected some really useful things-"

"Shut the hell up," Jim growled, glaring over at the boy. "You're distracting me. Making me lose count."

Glenn still stared up at Paul, saying nothing, but urging with his eyes for the man to accept his deal. The younger man's eyes were wide and his lips formed a slight frown. Paul just shook his head very slightly, but kept his eyes on the boy, just staring, not saying a single word. He didn't look amused or sinister. He just stared down at the boy as if he were watching a boring television program.

"Sixty five," Jim said after a while. He then walked over to Glenn, placing the stethoscope over the boy's heart and repeating the same process as before. "Man... yours is fast," he commented with a slight chuckle and an even slighter smile. Then he grew silent as he listened to the boy's heart, which was likely pounding pretty hard. Judging by Jim's comment and Glenn's worried expression, Daryl imagined the boy was probably pretty freaked out again.

Glenn focused his gaze back on Daryl, and he still looked concerned. Daryl could see he was breathing faster again, but not as rapidly as he had been before. He was clearly uncomfortable having Jim, who was obviously angry, standing right over him again. He was probably also quite disappointed that Paul, the man who had seemed to maybe be their ticket out of here, was not even close to willing to help them out.

"Eighty," Jim laughed as he looked over to Paul.

"That's probably still normal." Paul shrugged. "He's just stressed." Paul glanced at Daryl and then back at Glenn. "That's all we need for now. I guess you guys can just relax for a while," he suggested.

"Yeah," Daryl scoffed. "We'll just relax for a bit."

Paul just offered him a half smile before turning and leaving with Jim following close behind.

"You'd better be careful, Daryl," Glenn suggested as soon as the two men were out of the room and the door was shut behind them. "I really thought Jim was going to punch you... or squeeze your arm until the blood pressure thing burst or something... And for a second I thought Paul might hit you too. Why are you trying to make them angry?"

Daryl shrugge., "Just pushing their buttons... Testing their limits."

"Well, I think you just about reached both of their limits." Glenn frowned. "And I don't think you want to see what happens when you push them too far. They've had fifteen other people in here, just like us, and I doubt all their deaths were accidents..."

"Don't worry about me, Glenn." Daryl looked seriously at the younger man. He didn't want the boy to know that part of the reason Daryl kept testing their captors was on Glenn's account, so Daryl could focus any anger they had on him instead of on his companion. That would just make the kid feel guilty if one of the men really did take out his anger on Daryl. "I know what I'm doing," the older man assured him, "and I'll get us out of this. Apparently it's a complicated process, but I'm gonna figure it out. I made it this far, didn't I?"

Glenn was still frowning. He didn't look very hopeful. In fact, he looked like he was just humoring Daryl at this point. To Glenn, Daryl's promise to get them out of here was probably equivalent to a child's promise to become a dinosaur. "Any plans yet?" Glenn wondered.

Daryl shrugged. "Well, my first plan didn't work. I didn't realize Paul was a fuckin' sociopath. I thought he'd be the most likely to let us go, but now that I've talked to him, I think he's probably the least likely. Maybe he's not interested in experimentation and all that shit, but his complete indifference is even scarier than Jim and Alex's sick fascination with hurting people. Paul would probably just leave us here to starve to death if it were up to him, just because he couldn't be bothered to even come into the room if Alex didn't ask him to."

"What are we going to do then?" Glenn frowned. "Daryl... We're tied to beds. How could we possibly get out of this?"

"We'll think of somethin," Daryl offered. "I been getting myself in and out of trouble my whole life."

Glenn pouted. "Well, I hope you can think of another plan, because I sure don't have one..."

xxxxxx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may notice Daryl seems to still think the only way to become a zombie is to be bitten by one, or injected with their blood. I added his little thought about that in on purpose after Paul implied that the other patients died and came back as zombies. Paul knows everyone is infected, but Daryl and Glenn don't. Remember, this takes place during season 1. At that time, our main group didn't know that *anyone* who died would turn into a walker regardless of manner of death.


	11. Chapter 11

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Chapter 11

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As best as he could, Glenn turned to face toward the room's only door as he heard it opening. By now the sun had set, but the light of the moon shone in through the large windows on the far wall. Luckily, the light radiating off the moon was abundant. Glenn couldn't quite make out everything in the room, but he could at least discern silhouettes.

It looked like all three of their captors were here this time. He hoped they were just checking in and weren't planning anything painful. It didn't seem very logical for them to want to attempt any elaborate medical experiments in the dark, but then again, the fact that they were experimenting on living, unwilling patients showed the three men weren't quite in their right minds. Glenn knew better than to make any assumptions on these people's ability to be logical.

Judging by their silhouettes, Glenn could see that one of the men, Paul, carried a gun. Alex carried a flashlight which he clicked on as he entered the room. He shined the light toward Glenn first, right in his eyes, making the younger man squeeze them shut as they hadn't had any time at all to adjust to the painful brightness. When he knew the light was off his face, Glenn opened his eyes to further assess their situation. Alex had the light shone at Daryl now. Jim was behind the other two men, masked by their shadows, so Glenn couldn't see if he had anything deadly or painful in his hands.

"I gotta piss," Daryl called out before anyone else could say anything. "I never been a doctor or a surgeon, or whatever, but I assume you don't like working on patients covered in piss..."

The room was silent. Glenn glanced quickly over at Daryl, and then back toward their captors. Surely the men wouldn't actually untie Daryl... That would be stupid on their part... Even if they had guns and Daryl didn't, the three men had to see that Daryl and Glenn were becoming desperate, and weren't going to be as willing to play it safe at this point. If Daryl got a chance to overpower these men, even if it meant he might be shot and killed in the process, he'd probably be willing to take that chance. Their captors would have had to be blind not to see that. But they couldn't just let the man pee all over himself either... Well... They could, but Glenn hoped they wouldn't.

"Unless you want me to piss all over this bed, I'd suggest you let me up for a minute," Daryl continued in a very matter-of-fact tone.

Glenn looked back at Daryl. His face didn't give anything away. He didn't look like he was planning anything. Maybe he'd be able to trick their captors after all... Or maybe he really wasn't planning anything and actually did have to pee... But Glenn doubted that.

Alex walked past Glenn and stood over Daryl, shining his flashlight down on the other man's face. "Alright," he agreed. "We've got a bathroom down the hall. The toilets still flush as long as we add the water manually... We don't like to haul water often though, so I'll ask that you not flush this time... Paul and I will take you down there... But remember - your little friend's still going to be in here with Jim... You try anything, and he's going to be the one to suffer."

Glenn watched them carefully. He was surprised they'd agreed to this so easily. Daryl hadn't even had to plead his case... He'd just voiced a request, and they listened. The older man sure was good at intimidating people and getting his way. Maybe it was because Daryl had demanded rather than asking. Glenn had a strong feeling that if he'd said the same words Daryl had, their captors would have just laughed at him... Yet they agreed to untie Daryl without even a second thought. Did they really think Daryl was going to obediently walk down to the toilets and back, and then just let them strap him back down to the bed? Maybe they had more of that sedative on them, just in case... Or maybe they truthfully thought that their threat to Glenn's safety would be enough to keep Daryl compliant.

"Jim, stay with Seventeen," Alex ordered. "Don't do anything I wouldn't authorize... But if Sixteen tries anything, you have permission to take it out on Seventeen... Don't kill him; I'd still like to have him around either way... But if Sixteen doesn't cooperate, someone's got to be punished for it." Alex looked back toward Daryl who was glaring at him as he was slowly unfastened from the restraints around his arms and legs. "If you care about your friend at all, which I think you do, you won't try anything," Alex reminded Daryl again. "Worst case scenario, Paul will just shoot you in the head and your friend can stay here alone with us until we accidentally kill him."

Frowning, Glenn stared over at Daryl, who only made eye contact with him for a brief moment. There was a flash of something in the older man's eyes, some sort of determination and promise. Glenn forced himself to breathe in and out slowly and steadily as he looked back toward their captors.

Paul, still armed with a pistol, was continuing at being characteristically silent as he followed Daryl and Alex out of the room. Glenn still wasn't sure if Daryl was planning something. Maybe he really did have to pee... Or maybe he was going to try to make a break for it. Glenn couldn't imagine the older man finally getting himself out of the restraints and not taking advantage of the opportunity to do something. What if he got himself killed? Glenn would be all alone... What if he did get away, but left Glenn behind? He might... Which was why Glenn thought it was so odd that the ultimatum Alex had given was that Glenn's safety depended on Daryl's cooperation. What made them think Daryl gave a damn? Glenn knew Daryl wouldn't leave him behind if he had a choice... but if he simply couldn't save the younger man, he'd probably be willing to move on without him. He'd moved on without his brother, so he'd definitely be able to move on without Glenn.

Glenn felt extremely nervous by this point. He wanted Daryl to try to escape. If he didn't try now, he might not get another chance. And he figured the older man would probably indeed use this rare opportunity for all it was worth. It gave Glenn hope, but also filled him with dread and fear. If Daryl escaped, Glenn might be saved too. Or he might be doomed. And if Daryl tried to escape and failed, the older man would probably end up killed, or at least badly hurt. This was the scariest moment of Glenn's life. Within minutes, something huge could go down. His friend could either save himself and Glenn, or worsen the situation dramatically for both of them. Glenn shuddered to think what all might happen if Daryl's escape plan failed. The chance of everything working out for both Daryl and Glenn seemed pretty slim.

"You know, I'm not one to usually hold a grudge," Jim spoke as he loomed over Glenn. "So I forgive you for punching me."

Glenn stared up at him. With the man being so close to him, Glenn could see his face by the light of the moon, but the shadows on the man's face were much more prominent at night. It made him look even more sinister than Glenn remembered. "What are you guys going to do?" he asked. At this point, Glenn was trying two things: to get answers, and to stall the other man until Daryl's possible plan panned out. In a way, he didn't want to know what the men had planned for their captives, but if the answer was that they were just checking up on their 'patients,' it might be nice to know so that he could stop feeling so dreadful. As it were, he felt cold fear in the pit of his stomach. These men had him at their complete mercy, and they didn't seem all that merciful.

Jim shrugged. "I don't know... Alex kind of wanted to do surgery on you guys... I don't know much about medical things," he explained, "but I'm not sure we can keep stuff clean enough with no running water... Wouldn't want you guys getting infections. That could kill you. That, and I don't really feel like holding a flashlight up all night... If he's gonna cut into you, I'd think he'd want better lighting. We'll probably wait 'til morning."

"What kind of surgery?" Glenn's voice squeaked. He could barely even manage to get the words out of his mouth. Being here was like living in a nightmare. Even more so than the nightmare they had already been living in, with the dead rising and killing the living. Before he and Daryl had run into these guys, Glenn hadn't thought life could get much scarier than it already was.

Jim shrugged again. "He was talking about organ transplants... You sure you don't know what blood type you guys are? Alex said it might be cool to swap your organs around with each other. Like, you'd have Sixteen's heart, and he'd have yours. There's a bit of a size difference, but it might work."

Glenn's eyes were wide as he shook his head. "Heart transplants are really tricky, aren't they? He'll kill us... If he's the only one of you who knows how to do the surgery, how will he do both surgeries at once? Even a really experienced doctor would fail... Can you convince him not to do it?" he asked hopefully, in a slightly shaking voice. He hadn't thought before that Jim would be the voice of reason among these men, but he'd take whatever mercy he could get. "Jim... we won't survive that surgery, and you know that. Alex knows that. He has to, if he has any medical knowledge at all... I don't know my blood type, and I know Daryl doesn't know his either. We probably aren't even a match, and you don't have the right equipment to do such a complicated surgery... or enough experienced surgeons. You can't let Alex do that. You've got to convince him not to..." He felt panic rising in his chest. Was Jim serious? Would Alex really try something so stupid? Or was Jim just trying to scare him?

"I don't know..." Jim stepped closer and tilted his head slightly as he looked down at Glenn. If Glenn could have sunk through the bed, he would have, "Alex doesn't really take orders from me. He does what he wants, but he's got quite a bit of medical training. He won't do something if he's not pretty confident about it. That was just an idea floating around. If the surgery is impossible, I don't think he'll try it... not until later at least. He doesn't want to do something tricky and kill you both right away." The older man stared down at him as though Glenn were a mouse and Jim were a cat - like he was contemplating all the different ways he could play with his victim before killing him. Glenn wanted nothing more than to get away from him. But as it were, he couldn't move. Jim put his fingers lightly on Glenn's still exposed chest, carefully and slowly tracing the outline of his ribs. "Your skin's cold..." he commented.

Glenn didn't know what to say, so he remained silent, but he could feel his lungs beginning to work extra hard as he felt panic bubbling up inside him yet again. He wanted to tell Jim to get away from him, but he didn't want to make the man too angry. After all, Glenn was the one strapped to the bed. If Jim turned violent, there would be nothing Glenn could do about it.

"Alex is the one who knows all about the medicines around here," Jim explained as he continued to trace Glenn's ribs with his fingers, "but I'm pretty sure I know what this one does." He showed Glenn a syringe he had been holding in his other hand. He must have been hiding it on purpose up until now. "Alex told me once that sometimes he likes his patients to maintain just a little bit of awareness when he operates on them. Said it helps him make sure they don't die on him. What it does is kinda relaxes you, I think, so you can't move and mess up the surgery, but you can still see, hear... I'm not sure if you could feel anything. That would be pretty cruel if you could, right? Having your body cut open and not being able to move, but sill feeling it?"

"Yeah," Glenn squeaked, not taking his eyes off the syringe in Jim's hand. "That would be really cruel."

"Wanna test it out?" Jim smiled. "Alex probably doesn't want me to use it on you yet. I don't think he even knows I took this... But he's making me wait to do anything, and hardly ever even lets me get involved in operations and experiments... He needs to learn to stop trying to run the whole show. Paul and I are here too. Just because he went to medical school doesn't mean he knows everything... There's a reason they wouldn't let him be a doctor, you know? If he'd just teach me how to to some medical stuff, we could be more efficient."

Glenn shook his head. "Maybe you should just wait on him to get back," he suggested. He knew the only way he was going to get out of this was if Daryl happened to successfully overpower three men, at least one of whom was armed with a gun. Glenn would probably be doomed either way in the long run, whether Jim waited on Alex or not, but he'd rather wait until later if he could. "If he doesn't know you took that, he's going to be mad if you use it on me," Glenn pleaded.

Jim shook his head and brought the needle down to Glenn's restrained arm, the same arm he'd carved the number into earlier.

"Wait!" Glenn pleaded as he tugged at his arm. He winced as he felt the leather strap cutting into his wrist as he tried with futility to pull himself free. He knew freeing himself wasn't going to happen, yet he couldn't just give in. "Jim, please!" he begged. He felt powerless enough already. He didn't need whatever was in that syringe to be added to his helplessness. "You guys can't do surgery yet anyway," Glenn continued. "It's too dark! Why not save the drug until morning, when you can see? If you inject it into me now, it'll just be wasted..."

But Jim didn't give in to Glenn's pleas. As he felt the needle prick his arm, Glenn gasped and tried again to pull his arm out of the way. He squeezed his eyes shut as Jim injected the drug into Glenn's body.

After a few seconds, Glenn opened his eyes. He wasn't feeling anything yet... Maybe Jim had been wrong about what the drug was. Or maybe it just took a while to kick in. He could feel his breathing increasing dramatically in rate as he looked down at his arm. A small dot of blood had welled up in the spot where Jim had injected him. Glenn also noticed the bandage over the number carved into his arm was red. It had bled through. He looked back toward Jim.

"Guess it takes a while." Jim shrugged, putting his hand on Glenn's shoulder and squeezing lightly.

Glenn flinched away as much as the restraints would allow, which wasn't nearly far enough. Jim's hand was still on him. Again, Glenn was finding it very difficult to control his breathing. What was going to happen? What was the drug going to do to him? And then what would Jim do? What would Alex do? Was Daryl alright? All of these questions swirled frantically in his mind as he stared up at Jim.

He couldn't help but flinch and gasp as he heard what sounded like a gunshot down the hall. Glenn instantly looked toward the door, but could see nothing out of the ordinary. He glanced at Jim, who looked just as concerned as Glenn felt. Both men were worried about someone, but they weren't worried about the same person.

Glenn jumped again, and felt Jim's fingers clutch tightly around his shoulder when a second gunshot rang out through the hall.

"What do you suppose that's about?" Jim asked. Glenn could hear the nervousness in his voice as the man stepped around to the other side of Glenn's bed. "You think Sixteen overpowered Paul?" he wondered.

Glenn glared at him. "I hope so."

He could see Jim didn't approve of that response, and regretted saying it immediately when the man slapped him hard across the face. Glenn winced and pulled uselessly at his restraints again. He knew every time that it would be no use. Yet instinct still urged him to try to escape.

"You getting numb at all yet?" Jim mocked. The man balled his hand into a fist and slammed it down on Glenn's arm, causing a scream of pain to echo through the room. "If your friend shot Alex and Paul, I'm going to fucking kill you," Jim growled as he wrapped his fingers tightly around Glenn's arm and squeezed threateningly. "There were two shots fired... God damn it..." He seemed to be talking more to himself now than to Glenn. "Fuck... Two shots... Two shots."

"Maybe it's not what it seems," Glenn assured the man standing over him. He really hoped it was in fact what it seemed though. If Daryl had been shot instead, Glenn didn't know what he would do.

"Don't pretend you give a shit about my brothers." Jim scowled at Glenn. He shook his head. "Man... I ought'a just fucking kill you right now... I could do it so easy... Look at you." Jim shook his head as though he was disgusted. "You're completely defenseless. I could kill you by smothering you with a pillow, or just putting my hand over your mouth and nose, like a mother would kill her baby... And you wouldn't even be able to fight me off. I could just wrap my fingers around your neck and squeeze..."

Glenn felt his eyes widening. He also felt like his body was slowly becoming tired, slightly numb, and limp. The drug Jim had injected into Glenn's arm must have been starting to take effect. All of this caused him to start panicking even more than he already had been. His breathing was again too rapid for comfort, but as much as he tried to will himself to calm down, it just wasn't working.

"Alex said I could punish you if Sixteen acted up," Jim explained. His voice sounded somewhat frantic. The man had no idea what to do. That much was clear. The three of them probably hadn't had many of their 'patients' fight back in the past. Experimenting on people who spent their lives in hospitals, people who were used to pills and injections was not even comparable to doing the same thing to Daryl Dixon. "No matter who fired those shots, I think it's a fair indication that Sixteen's up to something..." Jim breathed out loudly. "Maybe Paul just had to shoot Sixteen twice, and that's why there were two shots... But even so, Sixteen would have had to do something wrong for that to be the result. I have permission to punish you for his actions."

Glenn shook his head tiredly. "He told you not to kill me," he managed to mumble, his words slurring slightly. He knew Jim had said the drug would allow him to stay conscious, but he was doubting that at this point. He was beginning to feel extremely tired.

Jim must have noticed Glenn growing limp, and maybe saw his eye lids fluttering, or heard the slurring in his speech, because he started laughing then. "Can you still move at all?" he wondered as he placed his hand on Glenn's stomach, likely in an attempt to get a reaction out of the younger man. Jim's expression had quickly changed from one of anger and nervousness to that of amusement.

Pulling at his restraints again, Glenn felt like his body was becoming heavier. Moving even just a little was more tiring than before, but he wasn't completely immobile just yet.

Jim's hand then traveled down to Glenn's hip bone. With his fingers, Jim traced the outline of the bone until it disappeared under Glenn's jeans. "Can you feel this?" Jim wondered.

Glenn whimpered as he tried still to shrink away from the man. "Stop," he almost had to fight the word out of his mouth. He knew he wasn't going to remain conscious for long. If someone didn't come in soon, who knows what Jim would end up doing to him.

"I take that as a yes," Jim laughed.

As Jim reached toward the button on Glenn's jeans, Glenn felt like his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. "Don't," Glenn pleaded. He fought weakly with the leather straps around his wrists. He knew his hands weren't going to be useful, tied down as they were, yet he continued attempting to act on his instinctive urge to try to push Jim's hands away from him. "Please," his weak voice barely managed. Jim unbuttoned the jeans easily and then proceeded to pull at the zipper.

For a moment, Jim let his hand linger on the zipper he'd just undone. As he stayed perfectly still, he narrowed his eyes and looked at Glenn expectantly, as though he was waiting for the younger man's reaction.

And of course, Glenn's reaction was one of panic. "Stop!" he choked out as he fought to keep himself from sobbing. He tugged again on his restraints, but it was even more futile now than ever. He could barely even move his arms, much less break through the thick leather straps around his aching wrists. What was Jim going to do to him? Was he just trying to scare Glenn? Because if he was, it was certainly working. "Jim... please..." Glenn begged. He was at a loss for words, both because he was panicked, and because he had never planned on having to deal with something like this.

Jim brought his other hand over to the waist band of Glenn's jeans and gripped the material gingerly between his fingers. He slid his first hand slowly over Glenn's exposed abdomen and to Glenn's other hip, gripping that side of the younger man's jeans in the same fashion. He tugged on the material slightly, causing the pants to slide down Glenn's hips a couple inches so that the top of Glenn's boxers could be seen.

Glenn heard a pitiful whimper escape his lips as he pulled weakly at his trapped wrists. "Please don't do this..." he pleaded in an exhausted voice. He wasn't entirely certain what Jim's intentions were, but it certainly didn't seem like anything innocent. Glenn already felt humiliated enough being locked to a bed and quickly losing his ability to even flinch. He didn't think he could handle having his body completely exposed, and didn't even want to consider what Jim might be planning to do next.

He felt the sickening feeling of the warmth of Jim's hands on his hips, even through the thick material of his jeans. It made him feel like throwing up. The man's fingers slid briefly between the waistband of Glenn's jeans and the thin material of his boxers. Glenn attempted to wriggle his body and throw the man's hands off him, but as much as he tried, he could still barely move. Glenn wanted to beg the man again, but instead of words, only a small, frightened sound escaped his lips.

"Your appendix is somewhere down here," Jim commented, placing his fingers on top of the elastic band of Glenn's boxers. "Can't remember which side... But I bet I could do that surgery all on my own, without Alex. Try one side, and if I can't find your appendix there, I'll try the other." He walked his fingers slowly from one of Glenn's hip bones to the other. "You don't need your appendix, you know. It's a completely worthless, useless organ. Scientists theorize it had a use once, but as humans evolved, we eventually didn't need it anymore. Crazy, huh?"

Glenn stared at him. As relieved as he was that Jim's focus seemed to have shifted to something less horrifying, Glenn still didn't like what the older man was saying. The thought of having an untrained man perform unnecessary surgery on him was horrifying in a different way. He could feel himself shaking slightly. "But you can't perform surgery if you aren't trained..." Glenn breathed out. It was difficult to force words out of his mouth. "So many things could go wrong..." Each thing he said was making him feel more and more out of breath. His breathing was already frantic, but he had to keep pleading. "You can't..."

To Glenn's relief, Jim stopped there, finally taking his hands away from Glenn's hips and narrowing his eyes menacingly down at his captive. Maybe he was just messing with Glenn after all. Though the younger man couldn't understand how any of that could have possibly been fun for Jim. But of course, Jim didn't seem quite right in the head; his idea of fun was probably pretty skewed compared to the world's definition of the word.

Jim put his hand heavily on Glenn's thigh and leaned down so that his face was close to Glenn's. "If your friend killed my brothers, I'll fucking kill him. I've got no reason not to, and then it's just gonna be you and me. And I'm not going to let you have the luxury of death. No one's watching me now. Not even God. I can do whatever I want. Up until now you've been lucky; you've had my brother kind of watching your back, making sure I didn't do anything to his precious patients... If Alex is gone, no one will prevent me from doing anything I want to you." He ran his hand slowly down the inside of captive's leg until he reached Glenn's knee, tightened his grip briefly, and then let go. "I think you'd be surprised how much the human body can withstand before shutting down and dying." He narrowed his eyes and took a step back. "I've still got my gun," he said with a smirk. "I'll be right back, and if my brothers aren't both in tip top condition out there, maybe you can have an appendectomy when I return. After a thorough pre-op exam, of course." He winked and laughed, then turned toward the door. Glenn didn't know where he'd been storing the gun this whole time, but it was in his hands now.

As Jim left the room, Glenn couldn't even build up the energy to call out a plea after him. He could feel his body trembling and was fighting to keep his breaths as even as he could manage. The door swung shut behind the man and all Glenn could do was lie still and hope for the best.

For a few seconds, everything was silent. Glenn stared anxiously at the door, even though doing so gave him no more knowledge of the situation than closing his eyes would have. He wondered what had happened out in the hall, and what was going to happen next. Who was dead? Or was anyone? Maybe a few walkers had managed to sneak into the building. Maybe Paul had just had to kill them. Or maybe Daryl had been shot twice like Jim had hoped. Daryl could have killed Paul and Alex, which was the best possible scenario for Glenn. Or maybe both shots had missed their target(s) and no one had been killed.

Glenn felt dread in his heart when he finally heard another shot, followed by the sound of footsteps coming back toward the room. As the door opened, Glenn squeezed his eyes shut tightly and tried to calm his breathing. As the light sound of footsteps entered the room, Glenn couldn't even bring himself to look and see who was there...

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	12. Chapter 12

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Chapter 12

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Daryl breathed heavily as he stepped over the body of the man he'd just shot. Until now, he'd never killed someone who hadn't already been dead. He'd never had a reason to before, but today he'd killed three people.

When Daryl had stepped out of the bathroom at the end of the hall a few minutes ago, he had a plan in his head. A plan to either get the gun away from Paul, or get himself killed trying. Letting these guys experiment on him and Glenn wasn't something he was going to just sit back and watch happen. As dreadful as he felt about having his own body ripped apart, he knew he wouldn't be able to stand to lie helplessly strapped to a bed and watch as his young companion was mutilated right next to him. Glenn was just too damn kind and innocent to deserve something like that, and Daryl was not going to let it happen. So he opened the bathroom's door and immediately tackled Paul, the only one of the men who was armed at the time.

He supposed it was luck more than anything that had saved him. Paul could have just as easily killed him, but somehow Daryl had grabbed the gun out of his hand. He hadn't even wanted to kill the man, really. Maybe Paul deserved to die, but Daryl didn't feel like he was really in a position to decide who deserved death and deliver it to them. He would have been content with just getting himself and Glenn out of here and leaving these men behind, but when Paul lunged forward, grabbing at the gun, Daryl didn't feel he had any other choice, so he fired a shot directly into the man's chest. Paul had fallen to the floor then, and seemed to be quite dead.

Killing Alex next was practically required if Daryl wanted to get out of here. He had seen the anger in Alex's eyes when the man's brother had fallen, and after that, there was no negotiating with him. The man didn't deserve to live anyway... Not by Daryl's standards, not if he was so willing to perform experiments on unwilling people. He'd said it himself... Glenn and Daryl were his sixteenth and seventeenth patients. He'd held seventeen different people here against their will, hurting them, and eventually killing most of them. He was a waste of space, even on this virtually uninhabited planet. So he had shot Alex as well, right in the chest, just like the other man.

After checking to make sure Paul and Alex were indeed dead and patting down their pockets to ensure they didn't have any other weapons, Daryl had recovered Alex's flashlight and had slowly made his way back down the long hallway. Halfway back to the room with the beds was where he'd encountered the last man, Jim.

Of course, Jim had been armed. The second Daryl saw him, he knew he'd have to either kill the man, or be killed himself. And he didn't even want to think what would have become of Glenn if he was left alone in this place with only Jim. Out of the three men, Jim seemed the least sane. And on top of that, Jim also seemed to have some strange twisted interest in the boy.

As much of a shame it felt to kill the living, Daryl knew he hadn't had any other choice. It was either him and Glenn, or these guys, and keeping the living alive did no good if they were just going to torture and kill each other. Alex, Jim, and Paul were no better than the walking corpses. In fact, they were far worse. At least the corpses were just killing out of some sort of instinct... These men were living and were quite conscious of their actions. They were hurting and killing people just for fun, or allowing it to happen out of indifference. Of course, Daryl wasn't one to be compassionate, but even he wouldn't leave people to be tortured and brutally killed, even if he didn't know those people. Ignoring another person's tremendous pain when you could help them was just indecent.

Now that all three of the men were out of his way, he could finally get himself and Glenn back to the relative safety of his truck, and out of this hell hole town.

He tucked the gun he'd taken from Paul into the waistband of his jeans, stuffed the flashlight in his pocket, and made his way down the dark hall and toward the door where he and Glenn had been being held. He opened the door slowly. In the darkness, he couldn't see much, but the light of the moon was bright enough so that he could see that Glenn was still where Daryl had left him, strapped down on the same bed as before. Daryl could see the boy's chest was rising and falling rapidly again, but he wasn't looking toward the doorway.

"Glenn," Daryl called out to him as he walked over to the kid. He hoped Jim hadn't hurt him; Alex had given him permission to 'punish' Glenn if Daryl tried anything, and Jim had probably heard the gunshots. Daryl hoped poor Glenn hadn't been punished too severely in those few moments between the time Daryl had shot Alex and the time when Jim had come out into the hall to confront him. The boy certainly seemed scared if his insanely heavy breathing was any indication.

"Daryl?" Glenn's voice sounded weak and slurred as he turned his head toward Daryl, tiredly, almost as though he was drunk. Even though he sounded exhausted, he also sounded and looked incredibly relieved. Daryl could have sworn he even saw tears in the kid's eyes. Hopefully tears of joy.

Daryl frowned and stepped forward so that he was standing over the boy and so he could look Glenn over and assess his companion's possible injuries. When he looked at the boy's face, he noticed that Glenn's eyes were fluttering between being open and closed, as if he was fighting a rather difficult battle to keep himself awake, but his lips formed a small smile as he seemingly tried to calm his breathing. Daryl grabbed the flashlight he'd taken from Alex and turned it on, shining it down on Glenn's face. The boy squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head slightly to the side. There were bruises on Glenn's face, but Daryl wasn't sure if any of them were new. Unfortunately, Daryl had been pretty rough with the kid before they even got caught up in this whole mess. He wished he hadn't done that...

He looked next at the kid's arms. Sure enough, just as Daryl had guessed would be the case, both of Glenn's wrists were scuffed up from the restraints Jim had fastened too tightly. He could see blood on the boy's skin, and dark stains on the inside of the leather cuffs.

Daryl frowned and reached for the boy's right wrist. "Let's get you outta here," he remarked as he set the flashlight down on the bed and started carefully undoing the buckle that fastened the leather strap around the kid's arm. When the restraint was fully unfastened, however, Glenn didn't move to stretch his arm, to flex his fingers, or to undo his other wrist with his now free hand. Instead, he just sort of laid there.

Daryl narrowed his eyes and focused back on Glenn's face. "You alright?" he asked. Glenn looked way too out of it. The boy wasn't just exhausted and overwhelmed at having been rescued from this terrible situation and from an uncertain, yet clearly horrific fate. He wasn't moving, and still looked like he was fighting to stay conscious. Jim must have drugged him with something. "You know what he gave you?" Daryl asked, putting his fingers lightly on Glenn's chin and tilting his head gently upward so that he could better see the boy's face.

"I'm okay..." Glenn answered, his speech still slurred and quiet. It seemed like each word he spoke was a chore for him. "Don't know..." His eyelids drooped then, but the boy forced them back open. "What it was..." he breathed out. Everything the poor kid said was with a tone of complete exhaustion.

"He didn't do anything else to you, did he?" Daryl worried. If Jim had drugged him, there may have been a reason behind it. He looked the kid over, searching for any injuries he hadn't noticed before. The boy's shirt was still pulled up almost to his armpits. Daryl looked Glenn's exposed skin over quickly, running his fingers gently over the boy's torso and ignoring the fact that Glenn actually held his breath as Daryl did this. But the skin on his chest and stomach still looked and felt smooth and unscathed.

Daryl frowned and carefully pulled the material back over the boy's stomach. It was then that he noticed Glenn's jeans were unbuttoned, unzipped, and pulled a bit downward. Glenn wasn't one of those kids who wore his jeans down to his knees. Jim had done this, for some reason. Daryl frowned. He hadn't been gone that long... Jim couldn't have done much in the time he'd had alone with the kid. Surely nothing too sickening had happened. After all, what could Jim have possibly done in just a few minutes, and with the kid being strapped down like this...? Hopefully Jim was just messing with the boy, trying to scare him. Daryl looked back up at Glenn's face. "What did he do to you?" Daryl asked again, his voice more stern this time.

Glenn shook his head slowly back and forth. "Nothing," he slurred as he closed his eyes again.

Daryl frowned. "Glenn?" he whispered, but the boy didn't open his eyes or speak. "Hey, kid..." Daryl placed his hand lightly on Glenn's cheek, but the boy didn't stir. He then shook Glenn by the shoulder, but the younger man still didn't show any signs of being awake. So Daryl carefully placed his fingers on the kid's throat, feeling for a pulse, which, fortunately, he found quickly. He was no doctor, but Glenn's pulse felt strong enough to him.

Daryl carefully undid the bonds around Glenn's other wrist and ankles. All the while, Glenn didn't move or flinch. For a moment, Daryl just stood at the foot of the bed and stared at the kid. What was he supposed to do now? He hoped whatever Jim had given to Glenn wasn't anything with damaging side effects. Hopefully he'd just sleep it off and would be fine in a matter of hours.

Glenn lay completely still on the bed. He was no longer restrained, but he might as well have been. Daryl stepped over to the boy's side and examined his right wrist. This was the one Jim had carved the number into. The bandage around Glenn's thin arm was red where blood had seeped through it. Daryl frowned and pulled the bandage carefully away from the boy's skin. The '17' marked on his arm seemed bigger than Daryl's '16,' but maybe that was just because Glenn's arm was smaller. Daryl replaced the bandage and took the boy's hand gently in his own. His wrist under the carved number was encircled with red marks and bruises where the cuffs had been too tightly fastened. Some of those bruises had probably come from Daryl though, when he'd grabbed the kid's arms earlier...

The boy's pants were still not all the way pulled up. Daryl contemplated fixing them, but he didn't want to scare the kid any further. If Glenn woke up while Daryl was tugging on his pants, he'd probably be scared out of his mind. Daryl was already a threatening figure to the younger man. It was bad enough that Jim had done whatever he'd done. Glenn didn't need to fear Daryl in that way as well.

He stared at the boy still. Glenn looked so small and defenseless. Seeing him like this made Daryl furious. He'd felt a bit guilty about having to kill their three captors before, but he didn't feel so guilty now. Seeing Glenn unconscious, bruised, and scuffed up like this reinforced Daryl's belief that those men's deaths were inevitable. If Daryl hadn't killed them, Glenn would probably be in even worse shape.

Daryl sighed. What was he going to do now? What could he do? Maybe he could just pick the boy up and carry him back to the truck. But of course, it was dark out there... and walking down the street even in the day time without his hands free would be dangerous. He felt an obligation to look after both himself as well as Glenn. The kid being completely unconscious would make Daryl's job of keeping them both alive ten times more difficult. He'd have to wait around for Glenn to wake up before they got out of here. But at least their captors were dead now. At least they'd be safe.

Of course, Daryl didn't know how well the building had been secured. Alex... or one of the other men - Daryl couldn't quite recall... had claimed the building was safe, but why should Daryl trust his word? This room seemed secure enough at least. If Daryl could just get himself and Glenn into one of the corners of this room, he could keep his gun ready and kill anything that sneaked in.

Scooping up the limp form of his young companion carefully in his arms, Daryl began making his way over to one of the corners. Glenn's body felt quite light in Daryl's arms. Daryl was used to carrying deer and whatever else he hunted. He'd carry them all through the woods, on uneven ground, uphill, downhill, sometimes through creeks or in the dark, so carrying this kid was no problem. He probably could get them back to the truck safely if he really wanted to... It didn't seem like a wise risk to take though. And since it was already night time, he supposed they'd be safer staying the night here than in the truck with the cracked window.

He felt Glenn trembling slightly in his arms. As the sun had gone down, the room had become even colder than it had been earlier. Luckily, there were plenty of blankets right here in the room. He grabbed one off one of the beds and carried Glenn over to the corner, carefully propping him up against the wall and wrapping the blanket around his slender, shaking frame.

Daryl seated himself next to Glenn and placed his gun on the floor next to him. If anything came through that door, he'd have plenty of time to grab up the gun and kill the intruder.

He looked over at Glenn, who was still quite limp leaning against the wall. Daryl narrowed his eyes when he noticed Glenn's eyes were open very slightly, "Can you hear me?" Daryl brought his face closer to Glenn's. Sure enough, the boy seemed to be trying to open his eyes further, but didn't say anything. The only sound he could utter was a small whimper, accompanied by a slight pouting expression.

"You still awake?" Daryl asked. Maybe he'd been given some sort of tranquillizer that would keep him still and quiet, but might not knock him out completely. He'd certainly seemed asleep before though... But maybe not quite now. He hoped the boy wasn't in any sort of pain.

Daryl squinted in the darkness as he tried to read the kid's facial expression. His eyes were opened more now, but he still looked like keeping them open wasn't coming easy for him. Daryl frowned when he noticed Glenn had very subtle wet trails down his cheeks.

"Why you cryin?" Daryl worried. Maybe Jim really had done something to him. But Daryl hoped the tears were just his way expressing extreme relief. Daryl knew the kid had to be relieved to have gotten out of this nightmare. Of course, poor Glenn wasn't completely out of it yet. From what Daryl saw, the boy seemed practically paralyzed... Hopefully just temporarily, but it certainly would still be frustrating either way.

Of course, Glenn couldn't answer him. Even just speaking seemed to be too much for him. The boy just continued to do his best to focus on Daryl's face while also fighting to keep his eyes open. He looked so sad.

Sighing, Daryl reached over and grabbed Glenn, pulling the kid into an awkward embrace so that he was half-way on Daryl's lap. Daryl didn't know what had come over him, but for some reason he just felt like Glenn was in desperate need of some sort of physical comfort. Daryl would have been cruel to just let him stay slumped against the wall, crying all by himself.

The kid had told him he didn't have any brothers. No one was there to take care of him like Merle had been for Daryl... And sure, Merle had never hugged Daryl... But Glenn wasn't like they were. If Daryl got hurt, Merle would tell him to man the fuck up... And if he was really lucky, maybe Merle would offer him a somewhat reassuring bit of physical interaction, like a clap on his arm, and maybe a quick 'you're okay.' But patting Glenn on the shoulder and telling him he'd be okay wasn't going to cut it for the kid. Not this time. He was clearly very emotionally and physically drained right now. A hug, no matter how awkward, was probably just what he needed to keep him sane.

Daryl didn't know if the boy was going to be able to sleep. And if he did fall asleep, Daryl probably wouldn't be made aware of it. So instead of sitting in silence, he just started talking, saying anything he could think of, both to pass the time as well as to ease Glenn's fear.

"Jim, Alex, and Paul are dead," he started with what he felt Glenn would like to know. "I killed them. So you don't got to worry about them coming back in here."

Glenn remained still and silent, as it was the only thing he could do. Daryl kept his arms wrapped securely around the younger man's upper body and rested his own chin on the top of Glenn's head. Considering they hardly ever found the time to bathe, Glenn kept his hair quite clean.

"I guess when the drugs wear off we'll make our way back to the truck," he informed the boy. "Maybe we'll wait until morning, just to be on the safe side."

Even when the drug had worn off, Glenn probably wasn't going to be in the condition to watch out for himself in the dark. They needed all their wits about them, as they only had one gun, and neither of them had eaten anything since last night around this time. They were both exhausted.

"I bet you'll be glad we picked up all them Pringles when we get back to the truck," Daryl offered. "Yer probably starvin. I know I am." He wondered if Glenn was annoyed with him right now. Sometimes it was hard for him to know what to say to people. And Daryl knew he himself hated people talking just for the sake of talking. If he were Glenn, Daryl might have been annoyed right now.

He thought back to how terrified Glenn had seemed during this whole ordeal. Then he thought about how scared the boy had seemed when Daryl had forced him away from the group and into his truck... And he'd seemed terrified when they'd fought at the motel, and again when Daryl had chased the boy down the street in this town and had tackled him to the ground.

Was Daryl really any better than these three men here at the mental hospital? Sure, he wasn't carving numbers into the kid's arm, or hurting him just for the sake of seeing him in pain... But he'd taken him against his will and had continually refused to let him leave. He'd even hit Glenn earlier without thinking... Maybe it was about time he let the kid go back.

Honestly, he didn't really want to say goodbye to Glenn yet. Over the past couple days, he'd kind of grown fond of the idea of having the kid around. Out of everyone in camp, Glenn was one of the least annoying. The boy wasn't selfish, usually wasn't an idiot, and was even funny sometimes. Daryl actually didn't mind him so much... After all this, he sort of felt obligated to make sure the kid was alright, and he wasn't really sure if he trusted the rest of the group to take care of him. But Glenn wasn't his to control. Glenn wasn't Daryl's brother. He was just some kid, who was probably more than ready to get away from the older man once and for all. He had to let him go, even if he didn't really want to.

"I guess after we get back to the truck and get you something to eat and drink, we can start looking for a car for you, so you can get back to the group... If you feel well enough," Daryl offered, "I'll leave the gas can with you, and we'll fill it up before you set off so you'll only have to stop for gas maybe once to get all the way back. I'll even set you up with a couple cans of Pringles." Daryl forced a smile. Maybe Glenn didn't like Pringles... He'd sure seemed annoyed when Daryl had insisted they take them all.

Glenn didn't seem to be trembling anymore and he was breathing evenly. Maybe he'd fallen asleep. "Don't know where I'll end up," Daryl continued talking, more to himself than to Glenn. "Probably just out in the woods someplace. When you're out in nature, this world now ain't so different from what it always was. Only difference is you get attacked by someone now, you might turn into a walking corpse. Before, you'd just end up scraped and bruised up. As long as you always act as though you're hunting, you'll be fine, I guess. Shoot anything that moves."

He glanced down at Glenn. The boy looked like his eyes were closed, but Daryl couldn't really say for sure from the angle from which he was looking. Fortunately the kid didn't seem so scared anymore. Daryl imagined the younger man was probably feeling a great deal of relief and dread at the same time. He was safe from Jim and the others, but he had been given some unknown drug and couldn't move or speak. Maybe he didn't even want Daryl to hold him like this... If he was opposed to it, would he have been able to give some sort of signal?

Frowning, Daryl adjusted his hold on the boy slightly, making sure his embrace was secure, but not too tight. He certainly hoped Glenn didn't mind. His intention was to provide comfort, not fear.

"It'll be nice to get back out and go huntin' again," Daryl commented, grasping at any topic he could think of to keep himself talking. He wondered if Glenn wanted him to shut the fuck up. Of course, the boy might not even be conscious anymore. Daryl decided to finish his thought at least. "Even when all the food in the stores goes bad, there's always gonna be game out in the woods. That's why all these city folk don't survive worth a damn... They relied on all this fake shit, like supermarkets and computers... No offense... But then again, you're pretty smart, for a city boy," he added. "Maybe you ain't got any hunting skills, but at least you're not a fuckin' idiot. You got good common sense, for the most part..."

He glanced down at Glenn again, half expecting him to say something or to move, but the boy remained still and silent.

"Maybe those middle school girls was just what you needed to get yerself prepared for this mess. They was like yer practice walkers," Daryl commented. "Except you can't stop walkers with pepper... Put some explosives on a corpse they're eatin, maybe. Same idea. Guess you can hope some of yer smarts rubbed off on yer sisters. Maybe you'll see 'em again someday."

He wasn't sure if he believed his own words. The chances of anyone surviving were slim, but Daryl didn't know Glenn's sisters. Maybe they were really smart, or maybe they'd found a good, strong, reliable group of people to stay with and were in some stronghold somewhere. If Glenn survived, especially all on his own, Daryl supposed the younger man's siblings had just as good of a chance...

Daryl sighed and leaned his head back against the wall. He didn't really know what else to say, and if Glenn was indeed asleep, the older man's words would be completely useless anyway. He supposed there wasn't much else to do now but wait. Maybe he could even catch a few winks of sleep himself...

... ... ...

Having no other choice but to lie completely still, Glenn listened to Daryl's words. The older man's arms were wrapped securely around Glenn so that even if he wasn't drugged, he'd be unable to move easily. He didn't mind Daryl holding him so close. In fact, it was rather comforting after the hellish day he'd endured. It did confuse him though. Daryl certainly wasn't the type to offer physical comfort. Glenn must have looked awful for the older man to feel bad enough to actually scoop him up and hug him like that.

When Daryl had come into the room, Glenn had been so scared. He'd had his eyes squeezed shut, afraid to look in the man's direction. He knew it could have been Jim coming back in, and if it had been, it would have meant Daryl was dead. Glenn couldn't bring himself to even look until he heard Daryl's voice, at which point the younger man was incredibly relieved.

The older man had been surprisingly gentle as he checked Glenn for injuries and unbound the younger man's wrists and ankles. Even as Glenn struggled to keep his eyes open, he maintained some level of consciousness, or at least he thought he did. Considering how nice Daryl was acting, Glenn wasn't quite sure if he was awake or dreaming.

When Daryl had finally freed him from his restraints and had taken him off the bed and into the relative safety of the corner of the room, Glenn had felt so relieved. He couldn't help the tears that began spilling from his eyes. And as much as he would have liked to wipe them away and hide his emotions, he could not. Fortunately, Daryl hadn't made fun of him for crying. He'd actually been very comforting instead, much to Glenn's surprise. He'd taken Glenn up in his arms and had just talked to him, even when he knew Glenn couldn't say anything back.

Glenn listened as Daryl spoke, and if he could have spoken too, he'd have responded. But as it were, listening was all he could do, so he did, even when he couldn't hold his eyes open anymore. Daryl probably thought the younger man was asleep, but he continued to talk until it seemed he ran out of things to say.

Daryl wasn't speaking anymore. His strong arms were still wrapped tightly around Glenn, but he didn't make a sound. Maybe the older man had fallen asleep. Or maybe he just didn't know what else to say. Glenn wished he could speak, but even if he could, his words would likely be slurred and confused. He felt half-asleep, unsure if he was even here now at all.

He could feel Daryl's steady breathing, as Glenn was cuddled up right against the older man's chest. He also felt Daryl's chin resting lightly on the top of Glenn's head.

Strangely enough, Glenn felt more safe right here, right now, than he had in a long time. In fact, he couldn't even remember a time when he'd felt safer. It was ironic, considering that he was drugged to the point that he couldn't move or defend himself, and there were zombies wandering the earth... But here in Daryl's secure embrace, Glenn felt like nothing could hurt him.

As he continued to lie limply against the older man's steadily rising and falling chest, Glenn felt like sleep was finally taking him. His eyes had been closed for some time now, and at times he had felt like he was asleep when he really wasn't, but now he could feel his consciousness most definitely slipping away, and it really wasn't so frightening anymore. At last it seemed sleep had finally taken him...

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	13. Chapter 13

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Chapter 13

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For the first time in a while, Glenn felt warm. Not just a comfortable room-temperature, but actually cozy. He couldn't even remember when was the last time he'd felt so snug and secure. Probably some time in his childhood when he got to sleep in, cuddled in his warm bed with no obligations. He opened his eyes slowly, hoping he wasn't dead, and hoping his sense of security was from some truth and not from the dream world; this feeling of safety seemed too good to be true. As he opened his eyes he saw that he was no longer tied down to that dreadful bed, and he wasn't in some sort of afterlife. Sure enough, he was still alive, and to his surprise, he was curled up in someone's arms, lying comfortably against the unknown person's chest.

He struggled to recall in his hazy memory how he'd ended up here. He knew he and Daryl had been taken captive by the men at the mental hospital, and he knew Daryl had left the room and that's when Glenn had heard gun shots in the hall, but at first he couldn't quite figure out what had happened next. Everything had happened so fast, and Glenn's memories still seemed muddled in his confused mind. It didn't take him long to remember though. Just by looking up to see who was there with him, he could see the arms he was wrapped up in were Daryl's. Seeing Daryl there helped Glenn's memory piece together the rest of the night.

Just as Glenn had been losing his ability to move or speak, Daryl had come into the room and had freed him from his bonds. Then somehow the two of them had ended up in the corner of the room as they waited for the drug to wear out of Glenn's system. The older man was breathing evenly now. He seemed to be asleep.

Daryl had somehow managed to kill all three of their captors within a few minutes and had come to Glenn's aid soon after. Unfortunately, the younger man had been drugged and couldn't move by the time Daryl had gotten there. Glenn had never thought he'd be so relieved to see the older man looming over him. Even as he felt completely helpless and terrified, seeing Daryl made him feel like he'd make it through this ordeal yet, even if he was unable to defend himself for the moment. He trusted that Daryl wouldn't let anything happen to him, so even while Glenn was defenseless and immobile, he wasn't so scared anymore. Glenn wondered if he could move now...

As slowly and carefully as he could manage, Glenn stretched his arm outward, finding to his great relief, that he could indeed move again. He smiled slightly as he slowly bent and unbent his elbow. He was so happy he could finally move again. Not being able to move when he desperately wanted to had been so stressful. He still felt a bit drained though. Moving was possible for him now, but it was certainly tiring. He hoped it was just because he'd been holding still for so long. Hopefully once he got up and moving, his limbs would work better.

Looking around himself, he took note of the lighting in the room. It seemed like the sun was only just beginning to come up over the horizon. The small amount of light illuminating the room had probably been the thing that had woken Glenn.

He looked up at Daryl. The man's scruffy stubble on his chin prickled the skin on Glenn's forehead when he moved. Glenn frowned when he remembered everything Daryl had said last night. He'd finally given Glenn his permission to leave - to go back to camp. Glenn wasn't sure if he really wanted to now...

Before, he had been so scared of Daryl. He hadn't been sure if the man would kill him, and knew the older man wasn't afraid to be rough and force him to do whatever he wanted. When Glenn had tried to leave, Daryl hadn't hesitated to tackle him to the ground and force him to stay. But of course, the older man had been right... Glenn shouldn't have looked for survivors in this town. It was his fault they were here right now. It was his fault Daryl had a '16' carved into his arm. That scar could be permanent, and now every time Daryl saw it, he'd know it was all Glenn's fault. Daryl may not be the nicest, most understanding person in the world, but he usually knew was he was talking about. Glenn should have listened to him...

Daryl had been terrifying at first, but now that the two of them had been through this, Glenn had seen a softer side of the otherwise intimidating man. Now Glenn felt the older man wasn't really such a bad guy. He just didn't understand people, and people didn't understand him. When Daryl had told Glenn that story about him and his brother playing together and taking care of each other as children, Glenn couldn't help but see the man in a different light. Daryl was a product of his environment. People had let him down in life probably more times than he could even count. Apparently his father hadn't cared much about him. The one person who actually cared about him was probably abusive toward him too, if not physically, at least emotionally... Glenn found it difficult to believe that the only person in the world Daryl trusted was Merle. It was actually kind of sad. In terms of companionship and trust, was Merle the best Daryl could find? No wonder he was so mean and said such hurtful, racist things all the time. Merle had probably taught him mostly everything he knew about social interaction, and of course, the older Dixon couldn't have set a good example for his younger brother.

Merle wasn't here anymore though, and Daryl seemed to be slowly growing into a more understanding person. Maybe now that his older brother was gone, even though Daryl missed him, the younger Dixon would finally be able to see that there were other people in the world who he could count on. Daryl had already changed so much from when Glenn had first met him. It would probably do the older man a world of good to be in the company of another human being. If Daryl went off and lived in the woods by himself, he'd probably just go backwards, become more jaded and hateful. Maybe it didn't really matter in the long run, since their days were obviously numbered, but Glenn didn't like the idea of just letting Daryl leave and go off by himself. Not knowing what had become of the older man would be awful.

Daryl had saved Glenn's life, more times than once now... How could Glenn just let him give up on humanity and isolate himself completely? With the world the way it was right now, Daryl's plan was to pretty much disappear. If Glenn didn't object, and went back to the group, he'd probably never see or hear from Daryl ever again, whether the man lived for only a few more days, or for decades. Glenn didn't want Daryl's uncertain fate in the back of his mind forever. Daryl was pretty confident in himself, but Glenn knew that everyone, no matter how independent, would benefit from having someone to watch their back. Daryl couldn't survive out in the wild on his own... Not if he wanted to keep his sanity.

Glenn wondered if Daryl would let him stay if he suggested it. He liked people at camp, but they weren't really his family. They all had each other, and many of them had actual family members among the group. They'd do fine without him, and he'd do fine without them. Daryl seemed to think he would do better on his own, but would he really? Maybe he'd welcome the idea of Glenn sticking around. After all, Glenn was an extra pair of hands... He wasn't just a liability. He'd actually help, so maybe Daryl wouldn't mind him sticking around. Or maybe he'd laugh and tell the younger man to get the hell out of his life forever. Glenn certainly didn't want to ask just to be rejected.

He froze when he heard a sound from the direction of the hall. He must have flinched too, without knowing it, because Daryl was awake instantly, and was tightening his grip around Glenn's body.

"What's wrong?" the older man asked in a scratchy voice, loosening his grip almost immediately once he'd woken up completely. His concerned, blue eyes stared down at Glenn. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Glenn whispered as he pulled himself out of Daryl's embrace and to his feet, swaying slightly when standing too quickly caused him to become a bit dizzy. He then offered his hand down to help Daryl to his feet as well. "I heard something," Glenn whispered. "Are you sure all three of them are dead?"

Daryl smiled for a moment, probably glad that Glenn was able to move and speak again, but his joy was quickly replaced with concern. He gripped a gun in his hand, likely the one he'd used to kill the three men... or to shoot them at least. At least one of them seemed to still be alive. Or maybe it was a walker. Daryl stepped in front of Glenn and started walking toward the door, but turned back toward his companion for a moment. "You doin' okay now?" he asked, his eyebrows raised a bit. "You good to go, to walk back to the truck?"

Glenn nodded. He still felt a little woozy, but he figured he'd manage. He probably wasn't going to feel much better until he had something to drink, and he knew they had water in the truck.

"You set to run if need be?" Daryl added. "It's probably just a walker out there... but if the situation arises where we gotta run, I want you ta be ready... You feelin' up to it?"

"Yeah," Glenn whispered. He figured he could run if he had to. He hoped he wouldn't have to though. He knew he could, but his body still felt a little tired.

"Alright." Daryl clapped him on the shoulder and offered him a very slight smile. "Stay behind me. We'll take care of whatever's in the hall first, and then get back to the truck. Shouldn't take long. We ain't parked that far away. We'll be out of here in no time."

"Okay," Glenn agreed. Without thinking, he gripped the back of Daryl's shirt as the older man led the way. Once he realized he was doing it, Glenn let go and just followed behind him. Even if holding onto Daryl's shirt kept Glenn's steps more steady and helped him maintain his balance, he knew the older man wasn't fond of physical contact, and didn't want to annoy him.

They made their way slowly into the hallway, but the sight they saw when they got there wasn't at all what Glenn had expected. It indeed had been one of their captors who had been making the noise. It was Jim, but he wasn't still alive... He looked much like he had when he was tormenting Glenn, only now his eyes were glossy and his skin had lost a lot of its color. The man's mouth hung open hungrily as he groaned and staggered toward his former 'patients.' A bit of drool flowed out of Jim's mouth and down his chin. Glenn gulped and ducked behind Daryl who shot the corpse right between its eyes without hesitation.

Daryl and Glenn stood still and silent for a moment, both of them staring down at the fallen walker. "Do you think he was infected?" Glenn wondered as he peeked around Daryl's arm at the fallen corpse. Even thought Jim was dead - twice now - Glenn still felt an illogical need to keep his distance from the man. "Maybe he'd been bitten... Maybe that's why he was so crazy..." Glenn theorized.

"I don't know..." Daryl frowned. "He didn't seem sick to me... Maybe just dying at all is enough to turn into one of them," he pondered. "Doesn't seem anybody ever just up and dies anymore... Everyone I seen who died did so because they got bit by one of these things. I never even considered you could turn into one just by dying in general."

Glenn narrowed his eyes. Come to think of it, he hadn't really witnessed any death recently that wasn't caused by the walkers either. Maybe Daryl was right, and anyone who died would turn into a walker. "That means the other two guys would turn into walkers too," Glenn noted, turning and looking up at Daryl's face.

"Come on," Daryl ordered as he started walking down the hall.

Glenn followed him nervously, glancing behind himself every few steps. If Alex and Paul were walkers too, they could be anywhere in the building by now. Glenn certainly didn't want them to sneak up on him and Daryl... It would have been a terrible shame to escape from these guys, to actually kill them, and then to be murdered by them anyway...

At the end of the hall was a body. When they got closer, Glenn could see that it was Alex. He hadn't re-animated. The man just lay still in a pool of his own blood. It looked like Daryl had shot him right in the chest. Maybe Jim really had been infected somehow. Or maybe Alex was just taking longer to get back up... Glenn noticed in the recent past that some people turned almost instantly after death, while others took hours. He still wondered what determined that time frame. It could be manner of death, or something in the person's genes... There weren't exactly many scientists left to figure this stuff out.

"I ain't takin' any chances," Daryl remarked as he aimed and fired a bullet into the dead man's skull.

"Where's Paul?" Glenn wondered, glancing down another hallway.

"He shoulda been right here." Daryl gestured toward a puddle of blood. "I shot him in chest... He must be a walker too."

Glenn stared at the puddle. There was a very prominent smudge in the pool of blood, a smudge which indicated that Paul must have gotten back up and walked down the hall in the direction Glenn and Daryl had just come from. Of course, he could have gone all over the building during the night... There was no telling where he'd gotten to by now. "Let's just get out of here," Glenn suggested. There was no use searching for the walker if they could just leave instead. Searching for things they had no real obligation to find was what had gotten them into this mess in the first place.

Daryl nodded in agreement. "Sure. It's not like we have any obligation to put 'im outta his misery... He didn't have any compassion for us... I ain't gonna have any compassion for him either."

As he followed Daryl down the stairs and out of the building, Glenn noticed he was beginning to feel a little sick, a bit dizzy, and quite tired. Maybe just walking after having been immobile for so long was enough to make him nauseated. Or maybe it was because he hadn't eaten or drank anything in so long. Or perhaps it was a side effect of the drug... Maybe it was a combination of all three of those things.

He was walking behind Daryl, who kept his gun drawn and ready as he led the way. "You doin' alright back there?" Daryl called back to him as he looked over his shoulder.

"Yeah," Glenn breathed out as he dragged his feet along. He felt really tired, but the truck wasn't that far away. They'd be there soon. He'd hate to stop now that they were already outside. Other walkers could have heard Daryl's gun shots. They needed to try to get back to the truck as soon as possible...

"We should have looked for bandages and drugs that would have been useful," Daryl commented, "But I guess we don't really need 'em... And I was sure as hell ready to be out of that place."

"Me too," Glenn commented as he forced his legs to keep moving.

... ... ...

Daryl frowned as he led the way back to the truck. He hoped it would still be there when they got back. When Glenn had run off the previous day, Daryl hadn't had the time to take the keys and lock the door, so it had just been sitting out in front of the grocery shop all night - doors unlocked, and key in the ignition.

Occasionally he'd glance back at his companion. Glenn seemed a little out of it still. He appeared exhausted, and was nearly dragging his feet as though it was all he could do to keep himself standing. "You sure you're okay?" Daryl arched an eyebrow as he looked the kid over.

Glenn nodded, but he didn't seem confident in his answer. The boy was frowning slightly and just didn't look well.

"You don't look so hot," Daryl commented. "You wanna sit down for a minute?"

Glenn shook his head. "Nah... We're almost there. I'm fine," he breathed out tiredly.

That was true. They were almost there. It would probably only be a couple more minutes of walking before the truck would be within sight, as the town wasn't very big at all. They hadn't ever gotten that far away from the vehicle in all this time.

Even though Glenn claimed he was fine, Daryl slowed his pace. He didn't want to work the kid too hard. The drug he'd been given was something unknown to either of them. Daryl had no idea what the side effects might be or how the boy might be feeling right now. The last thing he needed was for the younger man to pass out.

As they walked, Daryl kept a close eye on their surroundings. He couldn't believe how dead this town was. In all of their time there, they'd only encountered two walkers - one of whom was alive when they'd met him. Daryl couldn't help but wonder if they were all hoarded up somewhere. Maybe there was a farm nearby and the walkers were busy eating cows... or farmers... They had to be somewhere...

Occasionally he'd hear a small noise from an alleyway or just from somewhere off in the distance and his attention would be jerked toward its general direction. With each moment that passed, he was expecting to run into a walker. The only weapon either of the men had was the one gun Daryl had taken from Paul, and he'd already fired it five times. He didn't even know how many bullets there had been when he'd first taken possession of the weapon. He pulled the clip out. There were three shots left to be fired.

He glanced back at Glenn again. The poor boy looked like he'd just run a marathon, as though each and every step was a difficult feat. Maybe whatever drug he'd been given hadn't worn off all the way. Daryl hoped that was all it was. He hoped the drug hadn't actually made Glenn sick with anything that wouldn't wear off with time.

He wondered what the boy thought of him right now. Last night, when Glenn had seemed so broken and scared, Daryl had hugged him tight, and had even almost cuddled him like Glenn was a little child and Daryl was his mother. He still wasn't entirely sure why he'd decided to be so nice. Well, he sort of knew why... He just was surprised with himself. He didn't normally care about anyone besides Merle and himself. Giving a damn about someone else was foreign and terrifying to him. Hopefully Glenn would never mention it. With any luck, the boy would be smart enough to never bring it up... ever.

"Shit," Daryl murmured as he looked passed Glenn's shoulder and spotted a walker stumbling out of an alleyway. Shooting it would be easy, but he didn't want to make noise and attract more. He hoped they'd be able to get back to the truck fast enough that it wouldn't be necessary to kill the thing.

"What?" Glenn stopped and bent over slightly as if catching his breath.

"We gotta pick up the pace," Daryl informed him as he reached over and grabbed the boy's upper-arm.

Glenn groaned like a child who'd been given an extra homework assignment, but he allowed Daryl to drag him along. Maybe he didn't realize there was a walker staggering after him. He sure was fuckin' lucky Daryl was here with him... He clearly wasn't paying much attention at all to his surroundings.

As he dragged the boy along, Daryl kept an eye on the walker. If it got much closer, he'd have to shoot it, regardless of the sound the gun would create.

"Come on, kid," Daryl urged as he pulled on Glenn's arm. "We gotta move faster."

Glenn looked at him tiredly. He seemed to be trying his best to keep up, but Daryl still had to drag him along.

Unfortunately, the walker was picking up its pace as well. Its almost white eyes stared unblinking at the two men it was pursuing, and it's decaying mouth hung open as if it was already imagining sinking its teeth into living flesh.

"Fuck..." Daryl hissed under his breath. He stopped in his tracks, stumbling back a step when Glenn forgot to stop along with him and collided into Daryl's chest. The boy raised his hands defensively and stepped back when he realized what he'd done.

The walker was almost running now, but one of its legs half-dragged along the ground next to it. If Glenn hadn't been slowing him down, Daryl could have easily just outrun it. But that wasn't an option now. Daryl needed to shoot it, and fast.

He raised his gun up, pausing when he noticed a quick flash of fear in Glenn's eyes. He hoped the kid didn't think Daryl was going to shoot him, but he didn't have time to explain himself. He aimed the gun past Glenn's shoulder and fired, hitting the walker right where he'd planned. Growing up hunting all his life was certainly paying off lately. When conserving bullets mattered, he'd be the one to make sure to almost always make the shot.

Glenn spun himself around before the corpse even hit the ground. "You didn't even tell me it was there!" he panted.

Daryl shook his head and grabbed onto the boy's arm again. "Come on. We're almost there... But we don't got time to fuck around. I left the keys in the ignition... so it's possible the truck might not even be there." He saw Glenn's eyes widen, but the boy didn't say anything more. He allowed Daryl to drag him along.

"We're almost there," Daryl said again, as his way of keeping Glenn motivated. "We'll turn right at the end of this street and then we'll be in the parking lot. Just keep movin.' Yer almost there..."

They had almost reached the end of the street when Daryl saw another single walker stumbling around in the road. They were lucky these corpses tended to travel alone in this town... If a horde of them had shown up, Daryl and Glenn would have been beyond fucked.

Daryl waited until they were closer before he made an attempt at taking this one down. Since he was running toward it anyway, he felt he might as well make sure he made the shot.

As he moved right up to the decaying thing, he felt Glenn pull his arm out of Daryl's grasp. The boy must not have thought much about running right up to an undead cannibal. Daryl aimed his gun and moved forward until he was only a few feet away from the walker. Then he aimed the gun and fired, hitting it right in the forehead, just like he'd done to the other one. The body hit the pavement with a familiar thud and then Daryl turned back to Glenn.

This time, the older man put his hand on Glenn's back. Instead of pulling him along, he executed more of a pushing gesture, keeping the kid more next to him instead of behind him. They turned the corner into the car park and both breathed out twin sighs of relief. The truck was still there...

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	14. Chapter 14

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Chapter 14

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Daryl practically dragged Glenn up to the truck and pushed him inside before running around the the driver's side and getting in himself. After he closed the door softly enough to not create a loud sound, but firmly enough that it actually closed, he immediately checked to see if the key was still in the ignition. When he found that it was indeed still there, he breathed a sigh of relief and then focused back on Glenn.

The boy had his head leaned back against the seat and was breathing rather rapidly. His eyes were closed and his facial expression gave away the fact that he didn't feel entirely comfortable about this situation. More than scared, he looked tired.

Still looking at his young companion, Daryl frowned. The kid was worrying him, but Daryl didn't quite know what to say. Taking care of people and being gentle were never his strong attributes, but he still wanted to make sure Glenn was alright. Maybe he wasn't good at caring about people, but he was still going to make an effort. "I'll get you some water, okay?" Daryl offered, stepping back out of the truck and walking around to the back. He grabbed one of the jugs of water he'd taken from camp and brought it back with him to the inside of the truck. "Here." He offered it to the younger man.

"Thanks." Glenn took it from him and raised it up to his lips with shaking arms. From the way the boy handled the jug, Daryl would have thought it weighted forty pounds. He could have held the jug up for the kid, but Daryl didn't want to baby him. Maybe his arms were still a little tingly from the tranquilizer (or whatever it had been) but Daryl was confident he could handle getting a drink on his own.

After a few large gulps, Glenn handed the jug back, wiping his mouth with his arm and then leaning back against the seat again.

Daryl took this opportunity to take a few long drinks from the jug as well. Neither of the men had been allowed any sort of drink at the facility where their captors had held them. That combined with the fact that they'd just run half-way back to the truck made them both quite thirsty.

He snapped the lid of the jug back in place, set it down on the floor, and looked back at Glenn. "You said you were okay..." Daryl frowned. "If I'd known you still didn't feel up to it, I would have been more than willin' to hang back for a little bit before coming back to the truck." He felt a little angry with Glenn. The boy had a duty to take care of himself, and to say something if he wasn't feeling well. "If you don't tell me that you're about to pass out, I might not catch on on my own... You gotta look out for yourself better," Daryl complained. "Nothin' good ever came from anyone tryin' to be tougher than they are. If somethin's wrong, you gotta speak up. I'd have gladly waited until you felt better."

"Sorry," Glenn sighed. "I thought I was okay... I felt a lot better before we started moving. I didn't want to just sit around and wait all day... I guess I just got ahead of myself... But by the time I realized how bad I still felt, it was too late to do anything about it. We couldn't exactly stop in the middle of the street." He sounded a bit out of breath as he spoke.

"Well, what do you feel like now?" Daryl wondered, narrowing his eyes at the younger man.

"I'm fine," Glenn assured him. "Just tired. Like I've been running all day, or like my limbs are weighed down. I don't know what Jim injected me with." He frowned as he made eye contact with Daryl. "I guess I should thank you for coming back for me. I had such a horrible feeling that you were dead... I heard gun shots, but beyond that, I had no idea what was going on out there. I know that coming back had to have been a risky move. You could have ended up dead, but you came back anyway, so I want to thank you."

Daryl shrugged. "No problem. You'd have done the same for me... Or probably for anyone." He acted like it was no big deal, but in his heart he felt very strongly about the importance of his actions. Glenn was right; Daryl could have gotten himself out of there after just killing Alex and Paul. In fact, he'd had to go out of his way to go back and kill Jim so he could retrieve Glenn. Going back for the boy could have cost Daryl his life, but he'd never even considered not doing it. The way he saw it, either they were both getting out of there, or neither of them were. The only way Daryl would have left Glenn behind would have been if the poor boy had been killed. As long as Glenn was alive, Daryl wouldn't have even dreamed of abandoning him. He shuddered to think what Jim would have done to Glenn if Daryl hadn't come back for him, or if Daryl hadn't been successful in his escape plan at all.

When he'd found the boy, Glenn's jeans were unzipped and unbuttoned. Daryl didn't know what Jim's intentions had been, but he assumed the worst. He knew he could ask Glenn to explain what had been going on, but he really didn't know how to ask, and assumed Glenn wouldn't want to speak about it. It didn't look like anything serious happened. Looked like something was about to... But Daryl wasn't a psychologist. No matter what had happened, Daryl wouldn't be able to change anything, or really help at all. So he just hoped everything was as it seemed and that nothing too traumatizing had been done to the kid.

"I'm sorry I ran off," Glenn apologized out of nowhere. "It's all my fault we ended up in this whole mess. If I'd have listened to you, you would have never been subjected to any of this..." Glenn sounded out of breath again, like he feared his apology would not be accepted. "I hope your arm heals and that you don't have that scar forever..."

Daryl stared at him. The boy was looking down at his own lap as though he was incredibly ashamed of himself. "You had good intentions," Daryl mumbled the first thing he could think of. But then he added. "I ain't mad at you. I forgive you an' all that; everyone makes mistakes after all... You didn't run off so that we'd get ambushed by crazy fucks... You did it to try an' help them. It's their fault a lot more than it's yers, but I ain't sayin' you didn't fuck up - you did... I ain't gonna hold it against you, but you did fuck up. Yer too nice for your own good sometimes. Not everyone needs savin', and sometimes you just gotta hope people can take care of themselves. You gotta take care of you before anyone else. What good are you to anyone if you get yourself killed? Be that by walkers, or crazy sociopathic motherfuckers..."

Glenn forced a half-smile. "I guess if we wanted to search for survivors again, we'd have to organize our search better... Instead of beating each other up in the street, we could pay attention to our surroundings and maybe not be taken off guard."

"Well, I ain't searching for no more survivors. I ain't met many survivors who were worth finding." Daryl frowned. "An' when you go back on yer own, I hope you'll stay smart and not go off tryin' to be a hero. Trusting people's hard, now more than ever... Especially if yer all alone." Daryl felt like he was talking to a child, or to the younger brother he'd never had. He didn't want anything bad to happen to Glenn, and if the boy was too trusting to take care of his own best interests, maybe he needed Daryl to explain to him just how dangerous this world was. "Can you imagine what would have become of you if you'd been alone here and had found those guys? What if I left you here like you'd asked me to? What if those three had found you an' I wasn't here? What do you think you'd be doin' right now?"

Daryl could see Glenn's breathing becoming a little more stressed and he frowned, but he didn't say anything. Neither of them had to say anything. They both knew what would have happened if Daryl hadn't been there. Glenn's fate would have been torturous. Those three men would have experimented on him until they accidentally killed him, Jim might have done unspeakable things to him... and who knows how long he'd have had to suffer before finally dying? Daryl could see in Glenn's eyes that the boy was thinking the same thing Daryl was. And obviously, just thinking about it was making him feel uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry," Daryl sighed. "I didn't mean to uh..." He paused, searching for the right words. "I didn't mean to scare you... Just... Don't go trustin' people so easy when you an' I go our separate ways. I'd like to be there to make sure you don't get yourself killed, but I can't follow you around forever." Daryl frowned as he realized what he'd just said. Since when did he let his mouth run faster than his brain? He didn't want Glenn thinking they were best friends all of a sudden. Glenn probably hated and feared him. No matter what they'd been through together recently, the boy couldn't actually want to stay with Daryl, and Daryl didn't want ask him to keep tagging along just to have to suffer through his rejection.

"Do you really want to go off all alone?" Glenn wondered.

Daryl cocked an eyebrow at him. This sure was sounding a lot like a conversation they'd already had. Was the kid trying to convince him to go back to their group? Because that wasn't going to happen. Those guys would probably shoot him right on the spot, and even if Daryl didn't mind Glenn's company, he did mind theirs. That group was comprised of some of the most annoying people he'd ever met... Two cops who felt like they were in charge. Whiny women who were more of liabilities than assets... old people, that fuckin' black guy who got Merle left behind... And maybe worst of all, children...

"Daryl?" he heard Glenn's soft voice.

Sighing, Daryl stared at the kid. "I ain't goin' back there."

"I know..." Glenn sounded nervous. "But... I mean... Do you want to be completely alone for the rest of your life? If you found just one other survivor, and he wasn't too annoying, could you make room for him? Or do you really hate everyone? I mean, even if you found someone who you didn't mind, would you still rather be all alone?"

"You fuckin' with me?" Daryl narrowed his eyes. "I ain't gonna find any other survivors. Didn't you listen to what I been sayin'? If I'm somewhere that I think there's other survivors, I ain't goin' after 'em. I'm gettin' the hell out of there. I don't think you realize how much I want to avoid getting caught up in another fuckin' group of needy motherfuckers who expect me to provide for them and then fuck me over the first chance they get."

Glenn frowned. "But what if someone found you? Someone who wouldn't judge you or screw you over, and who could take care of himself... Would you let him stay? Or would it really annoy you? I just... I'm not sure why exactly you want to be alone... Is it because you don't like people, or just because you think people don't like you, so you don't want to put up with them judging you?"

Daryl stared at him. He supposed that made sense. People were always judging him, and that was a big reason why he stayed away from humans in general. "Well, if I found someone I got along with, like Merle," Daryl started, "I wouldn't mind him stickin' around." He wondered if Glenn was suggesting what it seemed like he was suggesting. From what he gathered, it seemed like Glenn was inching toward asking Daryl if he could stay with him... But that sounded too good to be true. Why would Glenn want to stay with someone who had kidnapped and threatened him? Someone who'd scared him and hurt him? Wasn't he terrified of Daryl? Why would he willingly put up with the older man? Maybe he was just too scared of driving back to camp alone... But then again, he'd made it pretty far by himself before Daryl even met him. From campfire stories Glenn had told, which Daryl overheard, he knew Glenn had been all on his own before he met the group. And that was even before anyone understood what was going on. If he'd made it all alone back then, he could drive on a straight road back to camp by himself.

"I understand the appeal of not having to deal with a bunch of people... Like I've said before, I work better alone a lot of the time. It's scary to have people depending on you, and it's scary putting your trust in people you don't know very well. But I don't think you're really that bad of company... And maybe I'm wrong, but I don't think I'm that bad of company either," Glenn rambled. The boy's uncertain eyes were glued to Daryl's face and he was biting his lower lip slightly as if he was nervous. "The drive back to camp from here would be awfully long if I had to go all by myself," he added.

Daryl sighed long and loud. He supposed he'd just have to get this over with. He'd ask Glenn if he wanted to stay, and if the kid said no, Daryl would just have to get over it. He'd been rejected and let down more times than he cared to count. If Glenn didn't want to stay with him, Daryl could just add the kid to the long list of people who didn't give a shit about him. The list thus far contained the names of everyone on the planet except Merle.

"I ain't goin' back to camp," Daryl started. "That's final. But if you wanna stay with me, you're more than welcome to. Truth is, I don't really mind you all that much. You just gotta stop bein' so nice."

Glenn laughed. "No one's ever suggested that I should be meaner... But I guess I could give it a try..."

"You better," Daryl smirked. "If yer stayin' with me, I expect you to call me names and punch me when I'm being a dick."

"Well, I don't know about that..." Glenn shrugged. "I really would like to stay..." He looked down at his own lap as though he were embarrassed. "If you don't mind the two of us sticking together, I certainly don't either... I think we could make a pretty good team if we tried. But I don't think I could just punch you when I disagree with you..."

"Why the hell not?" Daryl wondered. "You already kneed me in the balls and punched me in the face once..."

"Because you wouldn't let me go!" Glenn defended himself.

"Right," Daryl remarked. "I was bein' a dick, and you showed me you wasn't gonna put up with it... So you already got some practice in."

Glenn smiled and shook his head, but let that subject drop. "You really don't mind if I stay?" he asked, his expression turning into a worried frown.

Daryl shrugged. "Glenn... out of everyone I met so far, I'd rather be stuck with you than any of them. You may not be like Merle... Maybe you're too nice an' I can't knock you upside the head when yer bein' stupid... But you're not a bad kid... Yer smart - you can take care of yourself when you aren't drugged... And best of all, you seem to know when to shut up a lot better than some."

"Thanks, Daryl." Glenn looked like Daryl had just given him the nicest compliment he'd ever heard. "You're not so bad either. At first glance you seem mean and scary... But when it really matters, you're a lot nicer and braver than a lot of people. Some people would have left me behind back there... Not because they're mean, but just because they're scared. Of course I'd have been devastated if someone abandoned me like that, but I would have understood their fear, and I would forgive them... But you didn't let your fear get in your way... And don't even tell me you weren't scared; you had to have been. You risked your life to come back for me. You act like you don't care about anyone, but I know it's not true. No matter how scary you want people to think you are, I know you have a kind heart. You don't fool me for one second. You could have been killed coming back for me like that, but you did it anyway."

"Anyone who'd leave their friend to die just 'cause they're scared is a damn pussy, and ain't worth the air they're breathin'. If I'd left you back there just to avoid riskin' my own ass, I'd have deserved to die..." Daryl glared at Glenn. Knowing that the boy wouldn't have been angry at Daryl for leaving him to be tortured and killed made him angry. "You deserve to have friends who ain't gonna just abandon you the second they get too scared."

Glenn looked a bit shocked, and appeared to be speechless; he looked like he wanted to come up with some sort of reply, but couldn't think of one, so instead he just stared at Daryl until the older man continued talking.

"I know you're the same way." Daryl narrowed his eyes at the kid. "You wouldn't have left me there either. I even told you to do it if you got the chance, and you refused. Remember?"

Glenn frowned and his shoulders slumped. "But we left Merle..." He sounded like he felt very ashamed of that fact.

Daryl shook his head. "Don't even get me started on that. You wasn't the one in charge of makin' sure he got unlocked, and you wasn't the one who locked him up there in the first place. I guess that's the kind of mistakes that happen when certain people are put in charge... Namely cops, women, and black people... You couldn't 'a picked a more worthless group to go with you into the city..."

Glenn sighed. Daryl knew he wanted to argue against the words Daryl had just said, but it seemed like he was going to let it slide. "I'm really sorry that happened." Glenn was still frowning. "If I could re-do that day, I wouldn't have let it happen the way it did... Everything went wrong that day... And I knew it was going to go wrong before we even got into the city. I knew better than to bring a crowd with me, but I let them all come. I was stupid."

"You can't control all of 'em. That's why I'd rather be without any of those guys," Daryl explained. "When they all force you to let them come into the city with you even though they're loud and stupid, it's their own fault when things go wrong - not yours. Yer puttin' a lot of blame on yourself for the stupidity of others. You can't force people to not be stupid, and you can't blame yourself for failing to prevent their stupidity... But my point was, you wouldn't leave anyone you cared about behind if you could help it, an' neither would anyone who's worth the space they're occupying. Any man who'd leave his friend to die just 'cause he's too scared won't survive in this world anyway. You gotta be strong enough to keep yourself alive, but you gotta look out for the people you care about too. Don't be a hero, but don't be a damn coward either. You seem to already know this, but I guess some people gotta be told. I may not be the nicest guy, but at least I got a damn conscience."

Glenn forced a bit of a laugh. "I'm glad you don't blame me for Merle... Even if I do sort of blame myself a little... No one would have left him there on purpose... It was a hectic mess and we all regret what happened. But I'm glad you consider me a friend enough that you felt obligated to not leave me behind. I wouldn't have left you behind either. I wouldn't have been able to live with myself knowing you were still back there being hurt and eventually killed. You're a good guy, Daryl."

"Well, let's not get too mushy." Daryl frowned as he reached for the ignition and finally started the truck. Sure, he didn't really mind Glenn, and sure, he wouldn't ever consider leaving the kid behind to fend for himself, but there was no reason to talk for hours about how much they both liked each other. They weren't little school-girls. The two of them didn't hate each other, but they sure as fuck weren't best friends.

Raising his hands defensively, Glenn smiled. "No problem. I don't like mushy talk anymore than you do."

Daryl nodded. He was glad Glenn understood that the two of them could care about and respect each other without talking about it constantly. After all, it wasn't like they were married or anything... Daryl really did respect Glenn, but he wasn't a fan of constantly showing his affection for anyone, even if he did care about them. "You need anything else from the shop before we head outta here?" Daryl asked.

Glenn shook his head. "I don't really want to go back in there... Besides, we've got enough Pringles to last us the rest of our lives."

"Don't know about that," Daryl disagreed. "I'll probably eat a can per day..."

Glenn laughed.

"I ain't kiddin." Daryl glanced over at the boy as he backed the truck up and started back toward the interstate.

xxxxxx

THE END


End file.
